Born to Die
by TragicFangirl
Summary: Second Commander Keeva has to meet with an Imperial Psyker, but the man isn't exactly what she believes he is. Can she trust him and the dubious Imperial Guardsmen with him. Original Characters in a home-brew 40K setting.
1. Chapter 1

Keeva studied the letter carefully. Her hazel eyes skimming over the words a second time before she gave any indication of a reaction. Her fingers coiled around the paper angrily balling it into the fist of her hands. She'd known the day was coming, for the past week now she had expected it. Somehow, that hadn't made it's arrival any easier. Carelessly she tied her hair back before she left her small bunk room. Before leaving Keeva picked up her shawl from it's resting place on her poster bed and threw it over her shoulders. When she'd left she made her way to her usual post on the command deck to deliver the bad news to her superior.

The corridor she stepped into was long and cold, painted in uninviting steel. The drab interior of the ship made her smile; she'd never known anything else and to her the grey metal was home. She preferred the way the steel looked to anything else she'd ever seen, it was a comfort among the news she had just received; knowing it would always be this way. She made her way hurriedly to the command deck, several of the legions serfs passed her but paid her no heed. Dutifully busy with their tasks. She watched a servitor repairing some broken wiring underneath one of the light panels and jumped when it sparked in the servants face. The Servitor didn't even flinch. She tore her gaze away from the worker and continued her unhurried trip.

The commander desk itself was circular with several workers huddled around various consoles. It was the life of the entire ship, every order, ever error, every tiny detail about the ship was recorded here. Keeva looked out the clear windows surrounding the room into the vastness of space before them, the blip of stars blurred as they moved constantly forwards. She could tell the ships speed was hurried, they'd received new co-ordinates. A man, Mattias was stood on a plinth above the other workers, and Keeva stepped up to join him. Keeva saluted her companion Mattias, a man the same rank as herself. He returned the gesture.

"The Commander is somewhat, indisposed," he told her, giving a careful eye to the other side of the command deck.

"I saw when I came in; I thought you would be used to seeing the Commander talking with the Astartes by now, Mattias." She returned to him, not following where his eye had tried to lead her.

"I wouldn't want to," he replied shaking his head, looking away from the conversation. Giving a hint to the level of awe he held for the Genetically Engineered warriors.

"You misunderstand me," Keeva tried to explain. "I admire them, and I respect them. They achieve what we can only dream of, but I don't need to pick my bottom jaw from the floor every time I see one of them talking to the Commander."

"Your position with them is different." Mattias commented under his breath.

Keeva sighed dramatically. "I've told you before, I'm not afforded any special treatment just because of what I went through." She then glanced to the fully power armoured Astartes. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt if you got to know them or at least their names."

"You can't seriously tell me you know who that is, just by the armour." Mattias insisted.

"Try me," she replied confidently, folding her arms.

Mattias didn't rise to her baiting. The two had shared a friendship since their promotion to the same position at the same time and she knew exactly how to make him crack.

After a moment, and a few deeper breaths, Mattias asked her: "This isn't your shift, was there something you needed?"

"Yes, I needed to speak with the Commander about a temporary transferral when we come into orbit." She replied, finally looking to her superior officer. It looked like her wait wouldn't be as long as she feared as the Astartes warrior made his final command and left the deck.

"He seemed... angry," Keeva commented when the commander had joined them. She'd not heard much of the conversation, but she hadn't needed to. She could feel the tension and heat from their discussion from the other side of the room.

"When aren't they?" Her Commander replied.

Keeva took the words at their simple value and saluted her superior, turning the conversation instantly to one of business. Rather than speaking she handed the letter she'd received to him to read over. In turn he passed it to Mattias who was the first one to speak.

"You're going to consent to this?"

"I don't know," Keeva answered

"But you're putting in for transferral anyway?"

"Temporarily, yes. I would like to meet this man." Keeva answered once more.

"But your husban-" Mattias pressed his objection.

"Marcus' corpse is barely cold, and the loss I feel for him is still painful. I request that you do not mention him." Keeva snapped to the other Second Commander.

Mattias raised his hands to her and quickly apologised, knowing he had crossed a thin line.

The Commander, who'd been silent through the talking of his underlings spoke. "What do you know about this," he paused and held his hand out for the letter once more to look over the name again. "Nathaniel Greyson?"

Keeva turned from Mattias, her hardened expression softening to the easing tones of her superior. "Not much, Sir. He is a Primaris Psyker serving with the 54th detachment of the 412th. He has a decent service record, but there are few personal details on his profile," she expressed her concerns on the brevity of the man in questions public details.

"That's normal," the commander replied with a short nod. "I expect this has come about partially due to our recent orders. We're to rendezvous with the 412th and offer any assistance they require. While the Astartes pull them out of a tight spot on Tuelle. The Imperial Guard 573rd are having some trouble bringing the planet to compliance and sent out the request for help. We and the 412th were in the sub-sector. It is our duty to give the aid they require. You will be formally briefed within the hour."

"As it is my duty to meet with Nathaniel Greyson." Keeva replied, nodding about the information and the pending meeting.

"Duty? This isn't about duty Keeva, it's about giving yourself to another man," Mattias tried to make her see reason.

"Another man, to whom our son or daughter will be a valued asset to the Imperial." Keeva replied to him once again.

"I just don't see why you would..."

"Your judgement is clouded by our friendship, Mattias. While I thank you for your input I have already made my decision and am waiting for the Commander to give me his." Her tone had turned harsher with her friend, she then turned to him and quickly apologised for her sharpness.

Mattias simply nodded.

"If this is what you wish, Second Commander Genesis, then you have my permission." The Commander said, granting her request and saluted her. It was Keevas turn to return the gesture, and the moment she had done she turned on her heel and left the command deck so she could send her reply.


	2. Chapter 2

The view from the small shuttle window was stunning and Keeva stared at the war-torn tones of blue and green from the planet below. It had only been three days since her request for transferral had been approved. In those three days she had started to regret her decision. She had spent most of her time away from the Command deck wallowing in the grief for her lost husband or calling herself all sorts of vile names for agreeing to move on so soon. She knew that her outbursts of anger wouldn't help her situation now; but they'd made her feel better at the time. While on duty she had remained as calm headed and brisk as always, only letting the other Second Commander see her during her weaker moments, but his air of smugness had irritated her until she'd once again snapped at him and had to apologise for her behaviour.

The slow crawl to the Imperial Battle-Barge had given her some time to gather herself. To tell herself that she was doing the right thing and that Marcus would expect her to do what was right for the Imperium.

The shuttle docked with the Battle Barge _Glorious Heritage_ with few problems and Keeva waited in line to depart from the small transport. Her fellow passengers mostly consisted of service personnel and she'd not paid them any heed while on board the shuttle. As soon as it was her turn she grabbed her bags from the hold and made her way off the platform.

"Commander Genesis?" A question sounded from just behind her as she tried to find her way.

Keeva turned to face a short Guardsman he was hunched over with a spinal defect. His hair was cropped short and while his condition meant he couldn't fight on the front lines with his fellow troops, he was still useful as an aide to assist around the large ship however and seemed to have found a purpose despite his deformity.

"Yes?" She questioned looking over the man briefly, noting that he was armed with a simple laspistol, just like she was. "And it's Second Commander," she corrected the man.

"Right you are Sir," he bobbed his head.

"Just use the rank, Private. It would be easier," Keeva stated flatly, trying not to show the offence she'd received by being labelled as male. She hadn't needed to give the man another look over to discern his rank, it had been clearly displayed on his shoulder when she'd first seen him.

"The Primaris asked me to meet with you, so that you didn't get lost," he explained, his voice was accented, common.

"Very well," Keeva commented, letting the short guardsman lead the way.

She tried to take in as much of her surroundings as possible. Although the ship was much like her own there were subtle differences in the layout which could render her lost for days. The ship itself seemed busier than her own. Guardsmen were running drills down the halls being yelled at by their sergeants to get moving. Navy officers talked in corners, giving her a wary eye as she walked past. Passing one doorway she could see off-duty Guardsmen drinking without concealing the fact from those still at work; she was also certain she could hear raucous singing. She frowned slightly to the obvious lack of discipline among the ship and it's crew.

"How long have you served on the ship, Private?" She asked.

"Near seven years, Second Commander. Why do you ask?" The man looked over his shoulder as he spoke.

"No reason, Private. Carry on," She answered his returned question.

Once again the man bobbed his head and continued walking. Keeva shifted the bag on her shoulder and did her best to ignore the people within the surroundings. It wasn't her place to correct them of their misgivings. This wasn't her ship, she was just a visitor despite her high-rank. She had to remember that. Keeva noticed that she was being led towards the office areas and gathered that she was to meet with Nathaniel Greyson right away, the thought of it pulled at the edges of her nervousness. She couldn't explain why; she felt no reason to try and make herself look exceptionally appealing for him. Nor had she expressed any anticipation for the events that would transpire when back on board the _Divine Pursuit._ She was only here to investigate the request and find out more about the man behind it before even thinking of giving any level of commitment.

Keeva startled slightly as the guardsman spoke once again, stopping outside one of the office doors. "Here we are then, Second Commander," he motioned to the closed door. "Look, Second Commander," he added more casually to her, "Psyker Greyson can be a bit, odd."

"What are you trying to say, Private?" Keeva asked, staring the short man in the eyes as she spoke. She'd had few dealings with the mystics and while her words came out sounding harsh towards the man she appreciated any information that she could gather.

The guardsman fidgeted uncomfortably under the woman's difficult glare. "I don't want to get you worried or nothing. Or start any rumours, but the Psyker isn't like the rest of us."

Keeva raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow to the vague statement from the man and replied; "Of course he isn't. He's a Psyker."

The private smiled to her brash reply and couldn't help himself a snort of a laugh to her response. There were nerves caught in his throat.

Keeva lent passed the man and pressed the button on the intercom. Initially, there was no answer from within so she pressed the button once again and was instantly replied with a single word through the static grid.

"Come."

She couldn't discern much from the voice that had spoken, aside the fact that it was clearly male and held some age to it. The static covered up any of the finer details of the speakers tones.

The door slid open and Keeva turned to the guardsman standing beside her and dismissed him with a single word, he quickly scurried off glad to be free form her scrutiny. As Keeva looked back into the dark room her nerves seemed to increase tenfold.


	3. Chapter 3

The darkness of the room was due to the main light being switched off and a solitary light on the a plain desk dipping all else in shadows. Keeva stepped into the darkness of the room, her hand was tense around the grip of the laspistol at her hip. She couldn't make anything out in the gloom and she felt her shoulders tense because of it.

"There is no need for that," the same voice through the intercom, only now she could hear every silvery syllable perfectly. It was a voice that unpleasantly penetrated to her very core, despite the honeyed overtones. Keeva turned sharply to look behind her, where the voice had come from. She'd been caught off guard and she felt angry at herself for it.

"Second Commander Keeva Genesis, I assume," The man stated, turning the large bare light on flooding the room with vibrant hard lighting.

"Yes, Sir." Keeva saluted, blinking away the sudden harshness of the overhead light, letting her eyes adjust. She managed a greeting salute to the Psyker and the hand over her eyes shielded her from the glare.

The salute was returned, but his words didn't stand by the sentiment. "Please, Keeva, there is no need for such formalities."

As his hand lowered she noticed that his fingers were malformed, the index and middle, ring and small finger were perfectly formed but had been fused together. An accident, she assumed. As Nathaniel turned his back on her to close the door, her eyes followed. It wasn't the only unusual aspect about the man. The left arm of his high collared, dark grey overcoat had been rolled up and pinned to his chest. The arm that would usually find home in the sleeve was clearly missing. Probably the same accident.

"I would disagree Primaris Greyson," Keeva replied. "But this is your office, and these are your terms," she added.

Her words were met by a simple smile that did his noble face little justice. "You should also meet my Overseer, Victarius." Nathaniel motioned across his flak armoured chest to someone else in the room that Keeva had also failed to notice. A large built man was stood in silent sentry in the corner of the room. His hard stare only left the Psyker underneath his watch a moment to glance towards her. A stare she couldn't return.

"But, you seem to be a woman dedicated to her business," Greyson interrupted before any awkwardness settled. "So let us talk business," He motioned to the chair in front of his desk.

Keeva didn't react to the obvious jibe toward her nature, pulling the seat out to settle upon on. She sat with her legs crossed at the ankle.

"I must admit, this is the most unusual request I have ever had," she told the Psyker.

"Not entirely mine, I am afraid." Nathaniel replied.

"But you had a hand in it?" She asked, her head tilting to the side to study his reaction.

"Of course," he once again replied non-committally. His words gave no more away than his silvery tone. His malformed hand picked up a solitary data-slate from his desk. Steel grey eyes scanned the letters etched onto it briefly. "You must have questions?" He pressed towards Keeva suddenly without looking her way. "Or you wouldn't be here."

"You're a telepathic?" Keeva snapped back to him. Affronted that he had read her openly without her permission.

"I don't need to be," he replied, his own brow hardening at her accusation. His shoulders suddenly tensed as he glanced cautiously to Victarius. The large man had shifted when Keeva spoke of Nathaniels abilities. On edge that the Psyker may do something that they would all regret.

Keeva looked in Victarius direction and raised a hand to tell him to settle down. She then lent forwards on the desk a smile creeping it's way onto her face. "All right then. Why me?"

"The Imperium needs more Psykers. They need a controlled breeding program; which is where you come in, so that more can be produced. They wish to cross powerful Psykers with equally able partners so their children can be tailored to their needs." Nathaniel explained, straight faced.

Keeva leaned back again in the seat and raised an eyebrow once more. "Elaborate?"

"You show an uncanny ability to survive," he stated, placing the data slate back on the desk.

"You're talking about Aeshere." Keeva said with a small sigh.

"Among other things." Nathaniel added before Keeva could speak. "But yes, mostly Aeshere," he confirmed. "You survived when many of your other peers would have perished."

"Many of them did, and some that were far, far above my station. What happened on Aeshere was a tragic waste of life. I survived only with great effort and sacrifice." Keeva tried to explain, the memories of the planet not only being spoken with pride, but also with horrific loss. Her words wavered as she recalled.

"It is that strength that brought you to my attention," Nathaniel spoke, his voice softening as he noticed Keeva struggling with the topic. "And your ability to lead. You're how old? Thirty-Two and already a Second Commander. These are all good qualities under such circumstances."

Keeva remained silent for a while, giving herself time to gather her composure after the mention of her only planet surface experience. "And why you? I admit you're the first Psyker I've met, I know little about you," she stated after a deep breath.

"You don't have a Psyker on board the _Divine Pursuit_?" Nathaniel asked, his voice straining a higher octave, his shock apparent.

"None that I have met. The _Blood Guard_ do not have a Brother Librarian," she explained, giving a little insight to her knowledge of the Astartes she served with. "Of course we have Astropaths, but they're never disturbed."

Her words made her lack of knowledge about Psykers apparent and Nathaniel nodded and tried to smile through her ignorance. "Psykers draw on Warp energies to fuel their skills. As such we're limited to what we can do and carefully watched until sanctioned," he began to explain. "I believe that the Imperium sees I have potential to be useful beyond what I am sanctioned for. Thus crossing the two of us into one," he motioned with his single hand with little effect.

"I see," Keeva said as she thought about what she had just been told.

"These are weighty thoughts," Nathaniel stated getting to his feet. "And while speaking about these things in a more detached matter are, easier. This is not something we can be detached about."

Keeva watched as Nathaniel stepped away from the desk, her head lowering as she avoided his gaze. He was right. It was an emotional time. When Keeva raised her head again, Nathaniel was stood directly behind her, his hand upon the back of the chair.

"If you would like some time, I will have Private Krell escort you to your guest quarters," he offered, once again noticing the heavy silence from the Second Commander.

Keeva got to her feet, trying to avoid the hand of the Psyker. There was something about his malformed hand that made her shudder, but she tried her best to hide the fact. "I would like that," she confirmed, politely. "This is a lot to take on board," she confessed.

Nathaniel headed to the door and allowed Keeva to pass out into the corridor once more. their conversation had been shorter than he'd have liked. Certainly more formal. He waved the guardsman over from where he had been leaning and requested that he take Keeva to her room. Krell nodded and started to lead the Second Commander away. Before they were out of earshot, Nathaniel called down the corridor that he would speak to her tomorrow, to which Keeva gave her customary salute in reply.


	4. Chapter 4

Keeva felt tired by the time she had been shown to her quarters. She wasn't ready for the elaborate room that greeted her however. A room clearly reserved for a visiting officer of standing. Something she would never had admitted to others that she was. Her own quarters were sparse compared to the fineries that lavished these ones.

The first thing she did was pull her hair from the band that had kept it up in a bun and shook it free, throwing the band carelessly onto a side table. She exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease it's way from her mind. While one hand ran through her hair she opened a long range Vox Channel to the _Divine Pursuit._ With her ship in such close proximity she could speak with those on board without resorting to Astropathic communications.

"This is Second Commander Genesis," she started speaking as soon as she was received. "Patch me through to Second Commander Mattias Lamont," she instructed and was obeyed in decent time.

The voice that answered her was sleep filled and groggy. "Hello?"

"Mattias. It's Keeva. You asked me to communicate with you when I could," she spoke as informally as she knew how.

"Yes, yes," Mattias replied hurriedly. She could hear him shuffling about the room. "Sorry, I was a sleep. How is everything on the _Glorious Heritage_?"

Keeva didn't apologise for her poor timing. "It's strange," she answered pleased that she could speak her mind about the ship now she was speaking with someone she trusted.

"Strange? How?" Mattias asked, a minor hint of alarm in his voice.

"I can't put my finger on it exactly," she answered once more. Moving to sit on the edge of the large double bed, almost flopping backwards due to it's softness. "There is just something not right."

"With the Psyker?" Mattias asked.

"With it all. The Guardsmen here," she paused. "I don't know. Maybe it's because they've been waiting to get back into action, but there seems to be a distinct lack of discipline."

"What do you mean?" Mattias questioned. Keeva could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"It's all so informal," she complained.

Mattias laughed openly to Keeva's comments on the guardsmen around her. "Maybe that will benefit you," he jested towards her uptight nature.

Keeva scoffed and looked away from the Vox, as though not looking at it would mean the words coming from it weren't true.

"And Primaris Greyson?" Mattias asked, having woken up enough.

"I wouldn't like to meet him in a dark room." Keeva answered dryly, even though that was exactly how she had met the strange Psyker.

"Some of the Navy say that about you, you know?" Mattias continued the jest.

"All right! Enough!" Keeva cracked to her friends comments. "What do you want me to say? He was the most attractive man I've ever seen, I can't wait to jump into bed with him?" She asked down the vox.

"I'm sorry," Mattias said, but she knew there was truth to what he'd said. "It didn't go well then?"

"It's not that at all, it was civil." Keeva started to explain. "It's just difficult." She moved to rest her chin in her hand as she spoke. "Again, it felt strange. There are many questions that I still have about all this process, but I didn't seem to be able to get them out," she shook her head confused. "You know me Mattias, when have I ever had issues speaking my mind?" She pressed to him.

"Never." Mattias answered. "Do you think he did something to you?"

"Not at all. His Overseer got touchy when I asked he was a telepathic." Keeva answered, quickly. "I found that odd as well. The fact he still had one. I didn't think sanctioned Psykers had Overseers," she mused out loud.

"I don't know for certain," Mattias replied. "I suppose if the Inquisition feels there is the need for one."

"They'd just shoot them," Keeva added with a shrug, answering rather non-committally. "Like I said, it's just a bit strange."

"Maybe you've been on board the _Divine Pursuit_ for too long?" Mattias suggested.

"That could be the case." Keeva answered, not offended by the comment. "We do run things a little differently," she stated the obvious. They'd never hidden the fact that the Blood Guard were an unusual Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes when compared to some of their brethren. Their viciousness and preference for close quarters combat had earned them some renown. Not as much other Chapters, but compared to them the Chapter was still young.

"Just keep me informed?" Mattias requested.

"I will do. I'll get some answers when I meet with Primaris Greyson tomorrow." She replied.

"If you need anything." Mattias offered.

"I am sure it will all be fine," Keeva answered without feeling confident on the matter. She signed off the vox after saying a farewell to Mattias and wishing him luck on the upcoming mission on board Tuelle. It was a heavy weight hanging over both crews of the battle-barges. Something else that she must try and remember to question Nathaniel about; his role in the shared operation. She couldn't see that his involvement would be diminished just because of her presence on board the _Glorious Heritage._

Keeva lay back on the soft bed and let her concerns ebb away from her as sleep took over. She'd have her answers when she awoke and that would have to satisfy both her and her friend. She'd not be side tracked or evaded. She frowned lightly, an expression that disappeared as she kicked off her boots, undressed and wriggled underneath the soft covers. Letting her weariness be abated by the sleep that took over her.


	5. Chapter 5

Keeva had been given a message from Primaris Greyson by Private Krell. Requesting to meet him at one of the observation decks. She'd already checked the hour several times, it was well past the time she had been due to meet with him, she sighed and looked out to the clear view before her. The planet below was becoming an all to familiar scene so she turned to look toward the _Divine Pursuit_ instead. She found that she was already missing the familiarity of her own ship. Since speaking with Mattias she'd considered his words carefully. Wondering there was anything that she could do to change her very nature. Her hands gripped a metal banister and she lent forwards looking out the vastness before her with a small sigh. She'd managed to avoid being alone during the waking hours for the most part since the loss of her husband, being left to stare out to the dreamy nothingness of space just made her grief return feel all the more oppressive.

The sound of someone approaching stopped her grief before it overwhelmed her. "You look like you could use some company." Another Guardsman, someone she didn't know. The voice was as heavily accented as Private Krell, equally as common.

"I'm just waiting for someone." Keeva replied, letting her grip leave the banister and turning to him. Giving him a brief look over. His armour had been personalized and she was horrified by the fact he'd been allowed to do such a thing.

"That's what they all say," the man replied with a quirky smile, she assumed it was meant to be endearing. It just showed her the gaps in his teeth. "My friends call me Grim," he introduced himself without prompt.

"And mine call me Second Commander," Keeva stated, trying to get across that she wasn't just some pretty doll to be hit on.

"That's a very fancy title," Grim said, his back straightening slightly. "We already have one of those. What're you here for?"

"I cannot say," she answered.

"No, come on. No need to be shy," Grim pressed further. "This has to be good." There was something in his voice that seemed to say that he knew more than he was letting on.

"Don't make me tell you again Private, it is not your affair," Keeva snapped shortly, her temper rising with the intrusive man.

"That would be, conscript," he laughed, a low sounding cough took over before the laughter grew to loud. "Thing is, I heard a rumour," Grim lent a little closer to Keeva. She backed away as much as she could, but found herself colliding with the banister.

"Rumour is the work of heretics," Keeva quoted towards Grim. Her brows knitting together into a frown. Feeling irritated that she had been corrected about his rank.

"I've heard that that mutant freak wants something with you. Something sweet." Grim pressed, she could feel his hot breath on her face.

For Keeva that was the boiling point, that one step to far. "Conscript!" She snapped, her voice hardening as she spoke. The insult cutting deep. "Go to your bunk and stay there. You cannot and will not speak to a superior officer in such a manner. You will be punished."

"Did I strike a nerve?" He continued to apply pressure to the situation.

Keeva moved her hand to the pistol at her waist, flicking it free from the holster. Aiming the silvered tip towards the conscripts head.

"All right. No need to get violent," he tried to smooth over the situation, backing away from the weapon slowly.

"You bunk conscript. Now," she repeated again, holding her ground firmly. Showing the conscript and anyone else who'd decided to gawk that just because she was a guest on board the _Glorious Heritage_ , she wouldn't take her duties lightly. She watched Grim carefully as he turned his back on her making to leave the observation deck. Her attention flicked to the man walking towards her. Primaris Greyson.

As he passed the other, Grim spoke to Nathaniel, words that she could only just hear. "Enjoy it while it lasts, _Freak_."

Keeva felt her finger tense on the trigger of the pistol before she gave out a long slow breath. Lowering the weapon as she did so. She would petition to have the conscript publicly flogged so that others may learn from example.

"Is there a problem?" Nathaniel asked as he approached where Keeva stood.

"That man needs to be made an example of," she informed pointing after him, her eyes still filled with the anger her voice reflected. "A lack of respect not only for visiting officers, but his own as well."

Nathaniel followed her gaze momentarily and answered. "I'll see to it."

Once Grim was out of sight Keeva looked to Nathaniel and instantly noticed that he looked harried. His face looked infinitely older than the day before, with further receding lines in his already gaunt face. Held in his hand today was a large tall staff, obviously made of rare and exotic wood. Tipped at head and foot with bright metal, the head of which she found unusual. Lacking the Imperial Aquila, instead tipped with a sharp and dangerous looking blade. It was clearly attuned to his psychic powers. Behind the Psyker, Victarius stood.

"Sorry I am late, Second Commander," he stated sincerely.

Despite her earlier annoyance, Keeva accepted his words and replied, "You look stressed."

"No more than usual," he shrugged off her statement using the same silvered tongue that Keeva was already getting used to reading through.

"What's happened?" She inquired, not letting him off the hook so easily.

Nathaniel motioned with his staff to the other side of the room so the could talk in relative peace. "I will be honest," he started. "Ever since the 412ths last planet-side mission the Commander, Commander Dariel, has seemed. Different. During briefing he seems to had been more aloof, taking more and more time to understand the orders he has been giving the troops." His brow had knitted together as he spoke his thoughts. "I cannot help but wonder if his age is catching up with him." Nathaniel concluded.

"I have heard of Commander Dariel. What I heard were good things, I doubt his age would suddenly render him unable to comprehend the briefing room." She couldn't help but think that Nathaniel had little room to speak when it came to the age department.

"I don't even know if it is that," Nathaniel replied defensively of his thoughts. "Yet our role here, to back up the Blood Guard Astartes is relatively simple, yet Commander Dariel seemed to want to change the role of the troops. We've given over more men to Tuelle on his orders, even though they were not requested." He continued to speak his concerns to Keeva, leaning a little heavier on his staff he looked to her and let his brow lighten. "No matter. We are here to discuss another item on the agenda."

Keeva nodded to the change of subject. "That we are," she found the way he spoke of the matter rather interesting, it was impersonal. As though he we're trying to keep a great distance from any emotional attachment himself, a trait that she liked.

"You have more questions," he stated, once again able to read her without touching on his psyke.

"Yes," she answered honestly, this time not phased by his statement. "I find the entire program difficult to grasp. Psykers are abound in the Imperium. Is something like this truly necessary?"

"We are common, yes," Nathaniel stated about his kind. "But not on Aris."

Keeva straightened, the mention of her home world caught her attention instantly. She had expected the program to have been born from some higher purpose. Not something so close to home for the chapter she served with.

"Most of the Psykers born on our shared home world are born horrendously mutated and executed. We are going to bring back a certain level of purity to the genetic stock," Nathaniel slipped in their shared heritage as casually as he could do.

"That certainly makes more sense," Keeva agreed, feeling the pull of pride for Aris, even though she had never been there, it was the home world of her parents, but she'd been born in space. "But, why not take a wife?" She asked.

For the first time Nathaniel faltered in his speaking and answered as tersely as Keeva had done some of his statements. "A little personal, wouldn't you agree?" He didn't turn from her gaze, but his hand tightened on the staff.

Keeva turned away and apologised. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry." As her gaze turned away she looked out into the darkness spread before them. She could see the _Divine Pursuit_ entering lower orbit, making ready for the first wave of drop pod assault. As the first one started it's decent Nathaniel started speaking once again.

"Do you know all of them?" He asked, a true curiosity to his voice.

"Not personally. A lot of the Astartes keep away from us." Keeva answered. "I know many of them by sight or by their armour," she answered proudly. She pointed towards the second drop pod. "That's the Venerable Eion Maldir," she added with a little excitement crawling into her voice. "Uthor Fenix's predecessor."

"The chaplain," Nathaniel spoke watching the drop pod fall. "I always found it curious that the Chapter Master deferred authority to Uthor as much as he did." An alarm sounded at Nathaniels wrist, for the moment he ignored it as he continued to speak about the Chaplain. "I suppose that is why the Blood Guard are so dedicated to the-"

Nathaniels voice was cut off by the sound of Victarius' bolt pistol clicking next to his ear, a bolt being applied to the chamber. "Medicate. Immediately." The mans voice was deep and hard. Unforgiving and resonating with the same stern authority as the command he gave the Psyker.

Carefully Nathaniel lent his staff against the banister, keeping it in place with the weight of his foot. His hand then reached into the pocket of his coat, taking out a small metal box. He flicked the box open with his thumb, then looked to Keeva. "Do you mind?" He asked, offering her the box. Obediently, Keeva offered her hands for the box to be placed, feeling rather pressured by the obvious threat of the heavy pistol still pointed at Nathaniel. Once the box was rested in her hands Nathaniel took out a small stim and expertly pressed it against the vein in his neck, releasing the chemical cocktail within.

The moment Nathaniel picked the box back up from Keevas hands the pistol was lowered and the threat gone. The box was placed back in his long-coats pocket and he went to retrieve the staff. Instead his hand went to steady himself on the banister.

Keeva quickly moved closer to help the Psyker steady himself, but the tough glare from him made her stop. "Are you all right?" She asked despite the hard look.

"It's Torpor," he answered, his voice seemed slurred as the drug took effect. "It's used to keep everything numb. A lighter mix than what's used on the Black Ships, but enough to keep everyone happy. The dizziness will pass soon." Keeva couldn't help but notice the resentment in his voice, he didn't make any effort to hide it. "If you couldn't already tell Miss Genesis, I am not trusted."

She just nodded, uncertain how to react to what she had just seen or what to say to console the man. It wasn't as though she could say anything to comfort him because she felt the same crippling mistrust when she was near him. Instead she distracted herself continuing to watch the assault forming from the Battle-Barge.

True to his word, Nathaniel gathered himself as Keeva watched and in moments he was speaking with a better degree of clarity. "Was there anything else you wanted to know? About the program?" he asked, dragging the subject back up again.

Keeva shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she answered.

"Then maybe I can be so bold as to ask you to meet me later, at the mess?" He requested, giving his arm a glance. "I am running short on time, another briefing."

"As long as you're not late this time," Keeva awkwardly tried to jest, her words just sounded chastising.

Nathaniel tried to smile to her. "I can only try."

Keeva watched him leave, heading back the way he'd come from. Noticing the runic warding on the back of his long coat, and the way he lent heavily on the staff now he'd taken the dose of the drug. His Overseer naturally left with him and she wondered why there was such an extensive need for the fail-safes around the Psyker, beyond that of what seemed normal. She mused to herself as she continued to stare out and follow the light trails left behind by the Astartes drop pods.


	6. Chapter 6

"Private, please take this message to your commander personally." Keeva instructed Private Krell, her words an order. The stunted man took the missive from her and turned quickly. He'd been expecting Second Commander Genesis to give him a job or two about the ship; the simple carrying of a message was one of the easier orders on his expectant list.

Keeva left her room as soon as Krell had carried off her message, once again making ready to meet with the Psyker.

–

The mess hall was a buzz of activity, exactly the hub of activity that Keeva had expected it to be, but not something that had been a part of since her promotion; preferring the officers mess. She waited at the entrance, letting several of the Guardsmen through the entrance in front of her.

Keeping to his word, Primaris Greyson was not late. Yet he did once again look like he was hurrying, his footsteps heavier than they'd ever been. His features darker with weariness.

"Productive afternoon?" He asked, openly when he'd caught up to where she stood.

"I sent Private Krell with a missive to the commander, expressing my concerns." She answered honestly, there was little point in holding back the truth. "How about your briefings?" She returned the courtesy.

"They were, a trial." He answered returning the honesty. He motioned with his hand to the door to let her into the mess before him.

Keeva joined the queue behind a group of louder Guardsmen who were laughing about the state of one of their boots. "Are the workings of your plans not coming together?" She asked, sounding concerned.

Nathaniel's hand moved to his forehead. "Don't even ask," he replied for added emphasis to the strain he currently felt under, yet feeling unfair to Keeva he elaborated. "With the Astartes already planet-side, our presence is required sooner rather than later. Yet there is a distinct feeling of hesitation in Commander Dariels mind that I do not understand." He vented.

"You already have part of the 412th deployed, don't you?" She asked, picking up a tray from the pile and making her way long the line.

"Yes, we've had some of our forces deployed along with the Astartes, others were planet-side before you arrived. Everything seems to be a complete mess. One minute Dariel is handing over our troops with little care, the next he is hesitant to supply any." He vented some more, the tense frustration in his voice more than evident.

Keeva nodded with a frown, distracted momentarily as she was asked what food she would prefer. She nodded to some brown coloured slop that was passed off as stew. Once she had been served she stood aside waiting for Nathaniel; out of the corner of her eye she saw Conscript Grim slinking uncomfortably into the mess and join some of the other guardsmen.

"You had him punished?" Keeva asked trying to keep her voice hushed to avoid being overheard.

"You ordered it didn't you?" The psyker returned her question with his own, a rhetoric. His own food was handed over to him and as always he struggled to cope with having to many items to hold. Keeva offered her assistance; but it wasn't accepted. The taller man led the two of them away from the gathering rabble and as they made their way to a free table Keeva risked a glance to the rowdy table that the troublesome Conscript occupied; she could already tell there was more trouble brewing.

As the tradition of her own ship dictated; Keeva ate in silence. She found herself to be mildly irritated by the lack of custom for the meals on board the _Glorious Heritage._ Something made evident by the fact that she looked up, with a vicious glare on her face when a pair of the troopers game gallivanting over to where she and Nathaniel sat, wide smirks on their faces, arm in arm with one another dancing to the sound of another guardsman's crude fiddle. The Psyker looked to them both and offered a warming smile; until he noticed the look of death from the second commander opposite him. His smile quickly faded; the rabble having already moved on.

"We are not like your Astartes warriors, Second Commander," he started to explain to her; making allowance for the gestures of play that were erupting among the members of guard among the mess hall. "Nor I dare say, like other regiments of guardsmen. I make allowances for their folly at such times because on the morrow they do what they were born to do."

For the first time since her arrival Keeva could feel herself being chastised for her difference of opinion on how order should be maintained at all times. She'd never heard of a regiment being led by a Psyker before now and while the develop unsettled her to her very nature, she had to clarify; "To fight?" She questioned tersely.

"To die," Nathaniel corrected her with little emotion to his voice. His short statement just another fact of war, no matter how sugary he could coat his voice. "The guardsmen of Aris die by the thousand for the good of the Emperor; who am I to deny them their sport during a meal that may well be their last?"

"What is it like?" Keeva asked, trying to change the subject without making clear her question.

"I have never died, Second Commander. I do not know." Nathaniel quirked a thin brow to her question.

"Aris," Keeva interjected, trying to steer the conversation away from death.

Nathaniel's hand moved from where it had been resting in his lap to his forehead. The question wasn't any easier to answer than the one about death. He had no fond memories of his home world; only taunted nightmares. Yet here he was doing his duty for a planet that he held no love for. Only contempt. "I've not been there for twenty-odd years, since I was discovered," he answered, trying to squirm his way out of the conversation, but the look of determination on Keevas face made it unavoidable. Nathaniel gave a heavy sigh before he spoke again; "I can't say it's beautiful, the people work in either the mining facilities or are recruited to the guard," he watched Keevas face carefully, judging for any hints to her thoughts on his words. "They are mercilessly dedicated to their work and hold the Emperor in absolute reverence," That had her attention. "It's by no means perfect," he hastened to add, knowing that the strife of the hive-world was written into it's very roots. "As you know, a whole host of those born there are mutated; look at Private Krell for instance. He was one of the more fortunate ones, he still has some function. Those that do not, or whose mutants have gone to far are executed, sent to the Golden Throne; or left to fend for themselves," he went on to explain.

"I would like to see it some day," Keeva replied wistfully. "I think it's important to know where you come from."

"Who you're dying for, exactly." Nathaniel added to Keevas comments.

"We only do that for the Emperor," Keeva stated her frown returning, if only for a moment.

"As you say," The psyker knew that he was stepping on thin ice with his words when it came to the dedication of the Second Commander. She was tied to the Astartes, and that was a trait that would be very difficult for the Psyker to change; getting her to see the world from the viewpoint of another military order; especially one as different as the Aris 412th, would not be an easy task and Nathaniel questioned himself as to why he would even like to attempt such a thing.

The Second Commander would be a powerful ally, he figured there was little more to it than that.

"What will be the next step in the program?" Keeva asked suddenly, "I mean, how will the breeding be done?" She spoke plainly, and with an expert level of detachment. Returning any favour of emotionlessness that had been granted to her.

For the while, Nathaniel just stared at her. Her question had come out of nowhere; and she'd thrown him off guard with her questioning about their home-world and to face a matter of something that could be so personal with casual ease unsettled him, even though he had been trying to do exactly that. He quickly pulled his mind back on track to answer what he'd been asked; "Genetically, I don't know the full details of the process only that a genetic sample will be required..." He paused as Keeva spoke again.

"Was the question too difficult?" She asked, his stumbling hadn't gone unnoticed like he had first hoped.

"No, it's not that," he answered, quicker with his response this time. His honeyed tone well back on form when he added. "Just shocked that you'd assume there was another way."

"It is called a breeding program, it was natural to assume there would be some breeding involved." Keeva replied hastily defensive. "Do not take this personally, but I am pleased to hear that this is not the case."

"Of course," He allowed her to believe she'd covered her tracks. "If you're giving your consent I shall speak with the Apothecaries on board and make the arrangements?" He informed her, only adding the hint of the question to the last moment. The sooner this business was done with the better for the both of them.

Keeva nodded, thinking how daft this whole ordeal really was. If everything was resting upon her giving the go-ahead on just her genetic make-up then why did she even need to be here in person? Why not just let the Apothecaries on board the _Divine Pursuit_ take what they needed and leave it at that without her knowing? She was lost to her thoughts when Victarius made his was over to where the two of them sat. In the light of the mess hall she could see just how big the other human was. While he measured up to the Psyker in height, Nathaniel had nothing on him in the girth and muscle department.

"That time already?" The Psyker asked, getting to his feet. Picking up both his staff and used food tray in the same hand. To Keeva he once again made his excuses, and left with his Overseer standing at the customary few feet behind him.

There was a sudden silence hanging over the mess hall, the rowdiness of the doomed guardsmen had fallen into a sullen hush; the only table left to create any level of noise was the one that Grim had settled at. His too became quiet as the Conscript got to his feet, Keeva saw that the punished man was making his own way out of the mess. She kept her head low, not wishing to deal with another run in with the vile man.


	7. Chapter 7

Nathaniel stalked down the long corridor in absolute silence, as was the norm for the Psyker. Although he and his Overseer had a tenuous relationship, which at times only bordered on friendship they rarely spoke to one another. Nathaniel had always figured that it was the big mans way of keeping himself distant should the ultimate sacrifice have to be made. Secretly Nathaniel thanked him for it; it made the mans duty easier for the both of them, outwardly he resented the lack of open companionship from Victarius.

He'd passed through the maze-like corridors of the _Glorious Heritage_ many times and during his time of service he'd learned the quickest routes to his destination. His face was filled with dark thunder has he picked his way to back to his own office and quarters after another tiresome meeting with Commander Dariel. The plans for the Aris 412th regiment that Nathaniel had control over had changed once again, and they'd be departing from the _Glorious Heritage_ via Valkyrie in forty-eight standard Terra hours. A tactic that suited him and his regiment perfectly fine; if they were due to land anywhere near any of the key objectives of the War; a battle trait that the 412th were exceedingly good at. Instead their new orders were to throw themselves at an objective that had nothing to do with the strategic importance of Tuelles war. It seemed like a pointless exercise and Nathaniel couldn't help but take it as a personal insult for his team, and the loss of life that would undoubtably come from the bizarre assault

"Sir, do you mind?" Asked the deep voice of Victarius. Nathaniel had been so deep in his ire that he'd not notice the Overseer stop.

Nathaniel turned, looking over his shoulder to see what the issue was. He rolled his eyes and nodded as he saw the obvious distraction. For all his finer qualities, Victarius was still only human, still male, and still had the need for passion.

"Fine," Nathaniel granted him permission to speak with one of the female members of the guard. It wasn't like Victarius to take long with making further arrangements with women, and the Psyker understood the fickle nature of love within the Imperial Guard, you took what you could get and enjoyed the moment. Anything that lasted longer than your tour was an added bonus. Knowing that his presence during these hook-ups was nothing more than a hindrance, Nathaniel continued his walk back to his office; waiting around the corner for Victarius. Leaning against his staff he waited patiently for the man to conclude his affair.

It could be dangerous to be seen without his Overseer, Nathaniel knew this. Any one of the passing guardsmen could question his actions and take their arms against him and be well within their rights to do so; yet somehow, despite everything, he had managed to earn the trust, respect and fear from the most of his men. A potent combination, but one that had served him well.

Yet all was not well, a sudden disturbance; a shift in the attitude of the air caused him to peer up from his musings. "Victarius, hurry your busin-," Nathaniel called to his wanton Overseer, but his words were cut off before he could conclude.

A sharp pain hit him in the back of the head and he heard something clattering to the floor; his vision clouded white, searing with agony. When his vision cleared the view of the corridor confused him with twisted angles, it took a breath or two to realise that he'd been sent sprawling to the floor. The searing pain exploding form the back of his head made it obvious he'd been assaulted from behind. Nathaniel tried to turn to see who'd dare such an outrageous action against one such as he; but the motion failed as a heavy leather boot connected with his stomach. The Psyker coughed, the air forced from his lungs. A low groan followed a second kick, accompanied by the sound of cracking bone sending his correcting vision swimming once again.

"You dare to have had me flogged; you arrogant prick!?" Came the demanding question from common tongue. A mistake on account of the conscript that spoke them, the voice could only have one owner; one troublemaker. The voice was from the front of him; Grim had accomplices with him.

"Too afraid to lay a finger on me yourself?" Nathaniel wheezed through the dizziness, his hand groping the corridor for his staff, the respite while Grim was ranting about having been punished by order of a woman who didn't belong among the 412th allowed him to recover; only briefly. The taunts spat about Keeva angered him beyond the pain he was aching with. From the floor of the corridor the Psyker looked up; watching the Conscript carefully, still trying to learn who his friends were. He'd know them by sight and already had assumptions to their identity; nothing that could be proven. Yet.

As Grim drew closer the fallen Psyker stretched out his hand, and with great effort called for the Power of the Warp to return his precious staff to him. Wincing beyond all his limitations he managed to get to his feet. The prickling of his spell still caught in the air like the wretched smell of sulphur, his fused fingers tightened around the shaft of the spear-tipped staff. His gaunt eyes locked on Grim, and he felt blood trickling down the back of his neck that he couldn't do anything about now his hand was filled again.

With words filled with resentment the Psyker spoke, his arm held taught; spear tip pointing, to the man who'd had him attacked. He could see that long awaited fear in the conscripts eyes, even with the torpor coursing through his veins the Psyker could still direct his wrath, though with greater effort. Sweat from the effort of calling forth the Warp mixed with the blood, it stung, but that was little compared to what he'd do to the Conscript. His anger and resentment from all the frustrations, from all his trials directed towards the now uncertain man before him.

"Give me one reason why I shou-,"

"Don't even think about it, Sir." for the second time in as many days the Psyker felt the cold, hard metal of his Overseers bolt pistol.

Instantly Nathaniel calmed, the fury diminishing from his expression. It was then that he noticed the wild crackling of the tip of his staff, vibrant lightening arcing; threatening his fellow guardsman. It instantly died and the Psyker stumbled where he stood. Victarius quickly moved from holding the Bolt Pistol against Nathaniel's head, to help keep the dangerous man righted.

"Leave. Immediately." Victarius ordered the frightened Conscript. Grim and his accomplices, quickly fled the scene.

Nathaniel lent heavier against his staff, and if not for the large man now at his side again he'd have toppled back onto the floor; the last of his strength diminished; returning the pain of his broken ribs tenfold. On top of that his head was pounding from having been whacked by something solid, but that was nothing after expending so much of his energy needlessly threatening Grim through the torpor. Nathaniel felt a weakeness in his very core, and wanted nothing than to collapse where he was stood. Somehow he felt the strength of the other man around him, half dragging, half carrying him to the _Glorious Heritages_ infirmary. The Psyker was unconscious by the time he arrived


	8. Chapter 8

The bland grey corridors of the _Glorious Heritage_ did little to comfort the out of place Second Commander. The longer she was on board the Imperial Warship the more she longed for the ways of life she was used to on board the _Divine Pursuit._ It was the subtleties that she found made her feel unbalanced. The small hints of customization that some of the Guardsmen had made to their armour as they passed; not all of them displayed such obvious disrespect to their issued kit, but there was enough to be noticed. The rigid Second Commander couldn't help but wonder who'd allow such an action, but in the back of her mind the words that Primaris Greyson had told her repeated.

The shuffling of Guardsmen to the side of the corridor caused her to follow suit. A similar action should one of the Astartes of her own ship be present. She looked down the gloomy hallway to see who would cause such a stir, and instantly she regretted her actions for marking her out of place in the line of men.

"You!" A booming, authoritative voice shouted towards her, a hand point towards her and she saw the Guardsman next to her stand a little more rigid.

"Sir," Keeva replied, standing forwards slightly from the rest of the men; knowing it had been her at fault not the man next to her.

The man who'd called to her was an aging man; dressed in all the finery that dictated him the Aris Companies most senior officer. The man she only knew by name; Commander Dariel. The mans greying facial hair was neatly trimmed and she was instantly reminded for her own Commander; if not for the obviously common Aris accent to his voice, a contrast so different to the well-spoken commander of the _Divine Pursuit_ , she could have claimed them twins.

The commanders eyes narrowed as he observed Keeva, she felt small underneath his chastising gaze and for the first time in many months she was reminded of her days in training. "I don't know you," Dariel stated with clarity to her, as though he knew all those under his command by face personally, something that would be impossible due to the sheer number of the Aris Company. "Who are you?" He demanded hotly of her.

"My name is Keeva Genesis, Second Commander of the Battle-barge _Divine Pursuit_ ," She explained, with a salute.

"Why are you here?" He demanded once more, his voice as heated as it had been. There was a rage brewing within the man that Keeva was already starting to fear. Any hint that Nathaniel had given to her about the Commanders personable attitude was completely shattered.

"I am here under personal request of Primaris Greyson," She answered the question swiftly, without delay.

The expression of Commander Dariel softened, and he answered with a softer fondness, "I know that name," he stated, his voice speaking wistfully; with a feeling of nostalgia. The sudden switch in the Commanders mood confused her, the rage then the calm. Dariels thick white eyebrow twitched slightly as he added, "A strange fellow, but a good officer,"

Keeva almost went to speak her own thoughts on Primaris Greyson, but before she could the Commanders apparent rage was returned. "What does he want with you?" The look Dariel was subjecting her to was one of utter revulsion, and it was this not his question that made her brain feel completely scrambled.

Enjoying watching the woman squirm underneath his lack of compassion, he let the silence from her linger a little more than would be comfortable. "No matter," He added finally. "You'll become less of a distraction for him soon won't you? When are you leaving? Tomorrow? Good." Keeva stood in shocked silence as Commander Dariel turned his wrath elsewhere; moving on to discipline another of the Guardsmen lined up against the wall. She couldn't hear what was being said. The words struck had her harshly. She'd not known that she'd been a mere distraction for the Psyker, nor that the Commander hadn't known about her presence on the _Glorious Heritage_ ; she was certain she'd sent word with Private Krell about her time on board the Imperial Warship. The forthright words of the Commander and his opinion on her presence on board the ship had her questioning Primaris Greysons motives, surely the Officer had let his commander know about her being here?

Keeva stood in the hallway thinking for long enough that she didn't notice that the guardsmen had started moving away from the walls, it was only when an out of breath Krell approached her that she realised she had been stood still against the wall. She looked vaguely towards the stunted man before she finally managed to compose herself.

Krell rested his hands on his knees trying to splutter some words out, "Sec...Comman..." he breathed ragged breaths.

"Take your time, Private," Keeva soothed him shaking the last of her own upset away from her.

After a moment Krell managed to stand straighter; as much as his defect would allow.

"Victarius asked me to find you," he relayed as quickly as he could speak, the accent to his voice making the rushed speech sound all the more guttural. "It's Nathaniel, he was jumped. Come. Quickly," all formalities of rank were dispensed with from the Private, and for once Keeva let the lapse in professionalism slide. All her thoughts and doubts were quickly replaced with concern.

"What happened?" She asked, alarmed as she fell in step behind the Private.

"I don't know the full details, I wasn't told anything other than that I should find you, bring you to the infirmary," Krell answered and the Second-Commander believed him. She nodded to the Private, and in the silence that followed they both quickened their walking pace.

"And Primaris Greyson?" She asked, broaching the question of his health.

"I don't know, it's hard to tell with these sensitive folk," Krell shrugged slightly, his expression rather ashen. The Private was obviously concerned for his superior officer and trying not to let it show on his face.

The walk gave way to her racing mind, she was already certain of who had attacked Primaris Greyson. She was just shocked that the man would dare to do such a thing, surely he'd know that the outcome would only result in his death? Yet her concern switched from that of Nathaniel to that of Commander Dariel, her run in with the man had thrown her off guard; but there was something else about him that wasn't right and in that instant she recalled the conversation she'd had with Nathaniel about him and his flippant mood. It concerned her greatly.

Krell slowed his pace and pointed to an ornate door which marked the entrance to the _Glorious Heritages_ infirmary. Keeva could smell a horrendous mixture of chemical and death; she looked uncertainly to Krell who shook his head. "No chance," he stated flatly to the Second-Commander. "Too many bad memories," he tried to explain.

Once again Keeva just nodded to the Guardsman, although she couldn't relate to the mans fears, she could understand them. Everyone was afraid of something.

The doors slip open smoothly and gave way to clean white walls, the smell of death vanished as the doors opened which only seemed to emphasize the chemical odour. Keeva took a deep breath as she stepped over the threshold into the infirmary, she was quickly greeted by a shout from Victarius.

"Second-Commander," The call came to her rank and as she looked over she noticed the lines of worry on the mans face. She made her way over to where he stood outside a small, private room.

"What happened?" Keeva found herself repeating her question.

"I only left his side for a minute," the Overseer lamented his shame, "The conscript and his friends jumped him. It was only when he reached out that I noticed," Victarius was rambling, but it gave Keeva enough pieces of the puzzle to gather to complete the picture of the events.

The look Keeva gave the Overseer was one filled with frost; "You left his side?" She questioned, the disbelief in her voice apparent.

"Only for a second," he confessed once again, shaking his head. "Stupid, stupid," he repeated.

Keeva could hear the regret in his voice, and tentatively she put a hand on his muscled arm. "Grim would have found a way to do this anyway," She tried to comfort him, her expression softening. She looked into the room they were stood in the doorway of and pressed her way inside passed Victarius. As she entered the room the Psykers staff clattered noisily to the floor, she bent to pick the staff up looking sheepishly to the Overseer.

"You're lucky he is unconscious; he hates hospitals." Victarius commented.

With the staff still in her hands she asked, "How bad is he?" She looked down to where he had been laid out on the bed, covered from the neck down in an uncomfortable looking blanket.

"Physically, two broken ribs, superficial cuts and bruises. Mentally, he's stable. Whatever that means," Victarius added to the assessment. He held his hand out for the staff, knowing that it's owner would feel discomfort with it being in someone else hands. "As soon as I get the all clear from the medicaes I shall move him to his quarters,"

Keeva handed the staff over to Victarius as soon as she figured out what he was holding his hand out for, the weapon felt strange and uncomfortable in her hands and she was glad to be rid of it. Yet she couldn't take her eyes off it easily and while they spoke she felt her sight drifting back to the unusual choice in staves. The fact that it was bereft of the Imperial Aquilla was what marked it as odd, and she wondered why she only just noticed it lacked one.

She turned her back on the staff looking towards where Nathaniel lay, "Why did you send for me?" she wanted to know as she watched the Psyker, contemplating.

"You two seem to have become close," Victarius stated putting the staff back in it's place. "An observation," he tried to explain his reasoning. "That and I thought you would want to know about Grim," he added.

Keeva nodded looking one last time to the staff and the Overseer. Victarius looked down to the resting Psyker and left the room giving Keeva a nod in return.

Keeva turned her attention back to Nathaniel, she felt foolish for being in the room alone with no words to speak out loud to the resting man. In truth she knew nothing about him other than his plans for the improvement of Aris' psychic bloodline. In one instant she vowed to change this, in the next her brow knitted. There was a darkness over Nathaniels left shoulder and while she argued that she should leave the man his dignity for the wound that was undoubtably the cause for his missing arm; her curiosity won out. Carefully she took the starched blanket in her hand and drew it back.

What greeted her almost made her sick.

Where she expected the charred remains of the Psykers arm was a thin, slender appendage. Slick black in colour; and totally alien. Horrified by the mutation she stepped back, a hand covering her mouth. Here was a man preaching about purity when he was far from such himself. The colour drained from her face as she stared in disbelief, her hand removing the covering from the side of the mutated shoulder. The extent of the defect disgusted her; the entirety of the mans arm was warped, down to his clawed hand. It was a vision of nightmares made manifest.

Keeva turned on her heel and fled the room, avoiding Victarius' gaze as he called after her. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," she lied; leaving behind the infirmary and it's horrific truth.


	9. Chapter 9

In the time it took Keeva to get to her guest quarters the fear that had initially wracked her turned to anger. She felt betrayed by the Psyker and she felt utterly abused and lied to. Before the door closed behind her she screamed;

"Krell, get in here," she'd seen the Private leaning in his own way against the back wall; pretending to stand at some sort of twisted attention. The moment that Krell got into the room, as soon as he opened his mouth to ask what he could do for her; or what was wrong Keeva demanded "What is he?" her wrath being directed to the only person close enough to bare it down upon.

For a brief moment Krell looked utterly confused, at both the Second-Commanders overt show of emotions and for the question that he had been asked. Dumbfounded expression crossed his haggard features, which only served to exacerbate Keeva's anger.

"Don't try and play innocent; Krell you're not intelligent enough for it," Keeva added personal insult to the fray. "Greyson; what is he?" She demanded again.

"Oh," Krell answered, thinking a moment trying to pick his words very carefully due to her vile mood. His head lowered looking to her feet.

"You knew?" She questioned knowing what the wayward gaze meant. Her anger turned to confusion.

Krell simply nodded, not having the words to speak.

"How long has this been?" She couldn't understand the passive loyalty from the Guardsman.

"Since I got here, I would guess before hand also," Krell answered swiftly.

"I don't understand," Keeva confessed, she moved to sit down.

"I don't know if it's my place to explain Miss Genesis," Krell told her openly, but quickly added "Er, Second-Commander."

"I think you'd better," she quickly stated, her tone sharp; her emotions mixed

Krell moved to lean against the wall sideways, still keeping his eyes upon Keeva and her interesting feet. After he'd thought about how to explain something that he wasn't even certain he should he looked to her confused features more openly. "What do you know about the history of Aris?" He asked.

Keeva wasn't entirely surprised to hear her parents homeworld mentioned, somehow she knew that the planet would be a connecting factor. "Not much," she answered.

Krell gave a bit of a sigh the strain of having to be the one to enlighten Keeva to the truth about their homeworld more than evident upon both his features and his voice. "Look, I can't tell you everything because it's not my place to." He started, "Not that I know everything about him, but I can start everything off for you." He sighed again, feeling unnerved that Keeva was keeping herself silent and giving him her full attention.

"Before the Light of the Emperor reached Aris it was a troubled place, as you can well imagine. The people there were tribal. There was one tribe that was more secluded than the rest. They had wholly different interests and uncovered something that had been dormant underneath the surface of Aris. I don't know exactly what it was, only that is was alien. The tribe revered it; worshiped it and wanted to find a way to unite with it somehow. Well one woman became infected by it. I say infected..." he paused to let his words sink in to the Second-Commander. "She became pregnant and her child was born malformed. In our eyes it would be an abomination; a mutant, but for the tribe it was a triumph. They had the first child of the alien, the start to a new breed of human. Just so happens that this child was a Psyker, the first Psyker of Aris,"

Keeva looked horrified, "Nathaniel?" She asked, jumping to conclusions.

Krell laughed, "No! I know he looks it, but he isn't that old; this was years ago." He took a moment to recall where he'd finished in his tale. "Anyway, this tribe continued to grow, their offspring becoming more and more malformed, but more powerful. They took on other tribes and obliterated them. Becoming the most powerful on Aris, but all things must come to an end, as the tribe grew in population the genes of the alien in them became weaker; they could only take so much from the original source before depleting it. The Psyker trait become less common and as such the power of the tribe began to wane. The damage was already done though and because of the tribes absolute spread over Aris the integration of the mutant strain is still prevalent in it's society today. The Psykers from Aris are often mutated in one way or another; they're usually mentally unstable though, and you know what happens to those Psykers, they go to the Beloved Emperor's side."

It was Keeva's turn to lower her gaze to her feet; the talks she'd have with Nathaniel Greyson about their home-world had stirred a fondness for the planet in her mind. Her parents had rarely spoken to her about Aris but she'd always felt some sort of pull to visit some day; yet now she just felt disgusted by the place. "You mean they have the brains of these aliens?" she asked, thinking about how Krell had phrased his explanation

"I can't say anything about that, you can't blame the man for wanted to stamp out the alien, though," Krell stated.

"You sound like you agree with him," Keeva accused.

"S'not just the Psykers that're born with mutation-defects." Krell stated back, his common tongue coming to the fore as he spoke defensively.

Instantly Keeva understood what the Private meant, his spine. "Thank you Private Krell, I wish to be alone now," she dismissed him quickly, hoping that she kept the distaste from her voice. The look she got from the Private told her that she hadn't.

Primaris Psyker Nathaniel Greyson woke up with a short sharp breath, quickly rising from the bed in his own quarters. He instantly regretted the action and his fused hand moved to his side, clinging to the broken ribs. Slowly he lay back down on the bed, looking to the ceiling as though it might give him some comfort. When it didn't he carefully sat back up, giving a groan and a wince of the face, not careful enough it seemed. There was a glass of water on the table beside his bed he reached out for it with inhuman fingers, the inky black claws of what would be his thumb and fingers pulled the glass towards him.

"There are some pain killers there also," announced the deeper voice of his Overseer.

In that moment Nathaniel was brought back to the harshness of where he was and the conversation he was due to have with the younger man. He passed his glass from mutated hand to the malformed one and with a single claw tip dragged over the drug that he'd just been informed about. Quickly swallowing the cocktail with bitterness for the aftertaste, but the drug worked wonders rapidly; the numbing feeling they left behind was a welcome relief.

"We need to talk about what happened," Nathaniel spoke, all silvery tones from his smooth speaking voice had vanished. The Psyker moved to get up from his sitting position and as he was sat on the side of the bed he continued speaking "You stopped me from doing something very stupid," and as he got to his feet, "Thank you."

These were not the words that Victarius was expecting to hear; not from the noble man. It made the Overseer have to rethink his words, and the only ones he could find were "You're welcome,"

Nathaniel moved over to an ornate wooden cabinet, picking up a cut-glass decanter. Pulling the top free and carefully placing it down onto a tray.

"Chasing painkillers?" Victarius questioned with a quirked brow as Nathaniel poured himself a drink, upon his words he passed the glass to his Overseer. It was as the man took the glass that Nathaniel became alarmed; and looked about the room.

"My staff?" He asked, his words almost in a panic.

Victarius calmly took the glass from Nathaniel and motioned behind him, the staff was safe resting against the wall behind him. The Overseer was evidently used to the skittish outbursts from the Psyker. Nathaniel moved over to the weapon and wrapped his human hand around it's shaft. He closed his eyes and let his mind reach out to the weapon; his brow quivered as he did so, irritation.

"Who else has touched this?" he inquired.

"Keeva," Victarius answered, and now that the subject of the woman had been brought up. "You, might want to speak with her sooner rather than later,"

An icy look from the Psyker had Victarius explaining. "She came to visit you in the hospital. I think she knows." Victarius motioned to Nathaniels arm. Nathaniel used it to reach out and take the glass from the Overseer and he threw his head back as he drank the strong alcohol. The burn of it down his throat was the most welcome of pains.

"I need to cleanse this," He lifted the staff slightly, the taint of the woman on it made him feel unbalanced, while she hadn't left any psychic residue on the staff he could still feel her touch on it.

Victarius nodded, allowing the man to do what he needed with the weapon. Nathaniel once again lowered his head as he started to recite a prayer to the Emperor to bless the weapon, under close scrutiny from his Overseer the head of the weapon once again started to crackle. An arching light erupted from the tip of the staff and rippled down it's shaft, through his arm; where the power was absorbed and tentatively drained away. The speaking of the prayer ended abruptly as the power dissipated. Nathaniel stood for a moment in the room; keeping his council something had felt infinitely more intense as he'd incanted the prayer. More powerful and more dangerous. His thoughts interrupted by the sounding of his Torpor alarm and he looked to Victarius and frowned; maybe the power had come from the timing of the spell. It was an explanation, but not the right one; he could feel it in his gut.

"My coat pocket," he instructed the Overseer to the whereabouts of box he needed. It was thrown his way and expertly caught in the black hand, dexterous despite it's counter balance through girth and length. After medicating he reached out for his coat which was passed to him. He had a Second-Commander to placate.

"I do not assume to tell you your business," Victarius stopped the Psyker before he could leave his quarters and head to far in the direction of Keeva's guest room, "But you're due to brief the 54th and make War."

"Emperor grant me strength!" Nathaniel uttered his curse and turned in the other direction. Once again the Overseer was right; the compliance of Tuelle was more important than the whims of an uppity Second-Commander.


	10. Chapter 10

_The halls of the_ _Glorious Heritage_ _seemed strangely quiet, empty and utterly bereft of life. They chilled infinitely colder than usual; yet Keeva found herself wandering them anyway. She thought she felt herself shuddering, shivering beneath her uniform, but couldn't quite bring herself to admit that she was as cold as she was. She'd assumed that this section of the ship was broken. As she tried to find a Guardsman to report the broken air filtration system to but was only returned to the realization that the ship was almost deserted. She couldn't quite figure that out, surely a ship of this size should have someone she could find on it. She glanced down a long, wide corridor hoping that the busier intersection would provide some signs of life. Yes! There. She was certain she could see someone further down the hallway, she quickly rounded the corner and gave chase to the being, who'd turned the corner just ahead of her._

 _Yet deep within there was an utter feeling of foreboding, a dread for what she would find further down the corridor. Something felt horribly wrong about the current situation, it was unsettling. The further she ventured down the hallway, the greater the feeling became; maybe something to do with the way the corridor just seemed to get longer and longer, a darker shade of grey with every step she took, despite the clear illumination from the sconces that decorated the walls._

 _At some point she became aware of a high-pitched male voice singing in soprano. She couldn't discern the language, or even hope to understand the long wailing sounds. It was faint, and every time she tried to listen harder to the voice it felt like it slipped further away from hearing._

 _Keeva tried to press on further down the hallway, led by fleeting glimpses of something she was becoming uncertain of it's actual existence. She'd started following someone down here, but now there was no other signs of life within the halls other than her own. She risked a glance behind her, but was only greeted with total, penetrating darkness; she'd not heard the sound of lights being switched out. In an attempt to recapture her attention from the fearful void behind her the lights in front of her flickered and brightened and Keeva felt a sudden reassurance that she'd been going in the right direction in the first place._

 _Her confidence grew and she continued into the radiant light, looking for the Guardsman she'd initially seen. The voice became a comfort to her, rising in crescendo as she continued forwards; the uncomfortable wailing tones giving way to sweeter sing-song._

 _Until the voice abruptly stopped, as did the corridor. She was greeted by a large archaic wooden box standing tall and upright; the wood itself completely dilapidated and fraying, shattered and splintered slats. It was surrounded by natural light from fire-lit candles, she hadn't noticed the change from electronic lighting to these, but somehow it felt right. All that she could think about, was the box and discovering it's contents. The idea of getting into the box overwhelmed her, took over her entire being. It proved difficult, she could see no easy way into the wooden box. No way that logic would give sway to, there was no discernible entrance, no lid too lift._

 _Keeva was vaguely aware of the singing once again and while it'd proven a comfort only a few moments before, now it was a horrendous distraction, the words seemed to be taunting. Her thoughts became frantic and she panicked, the very thought of the box being un-openable crushed her entire soul. She drew closer to it, looking around it, yet this only confirmed what she already knew. She tried pushing it over, but lacked the strength. She saw her hands reaching out, and started clawing at the box despite it's barbed wooden surface. She grimaced as she tried harder to rake her way through the wood, her own haunting scream formed, joining with the soprano. Her eyes closed tightly as she forced her way harder; when they opened she looked down at her hands, covered in blood, and stuck with splinters._

 _Somehow, she didn't feel the pain, nor care that her hands appeared to be covered in tatters. She'd done it. She'd opened the box. The feeling of foreboding and dread returned to her as she tentatively pulled the wooden slats away. In that single moment she saw what had been so important; Nathaniels staff. Her hand reached out to grab it and free it from the confines of it's wooden cage. When the blue-sharp tipped spear was in her grasp she felt utterly confused; then pain erupted from her hands and all she could hear was an utterly vicious voice speaking._

" _Its time."_

–

Keeva woke up in a shock, her eyes snapping open. At first she couldn't tell where she was, the unfamiliar room unsettled her; her heart palpitating rapidly. She struggled to wipe the nightmare from her memories, reaching out for a glass of water only to see her hands covered in blood. She wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. For the first time in her life she felt terrified and utterly alone.


	11. Chapter 11

Nathaniel was running late, as seemed customary in recent weeks for the Psyker. Detailed briefings had already started by his Sergeants to their designated squads. The compliment of soldiers was only small, but as he made to stand in his place before them; next to the Ministorum Priest, he felt the swell of pride. Yes, they were unconventional, undisciplined; but they were still his guardsmen. Any measure of gratification he felt standing before them drained; the smile fell from his face, the moment he glanced Second-Commander Keeva standing the other side of the line up. The woman looked every bit her usual uptight self; straight backed and immaculately presented. He couldn't help but notice that when she looked his way, it was not to his face that she gazed, but to his shoulder; his arm. He'd not bothered to hide it away; during briefing moments such as this the fear his appearance caused was a valuable asset. There was something else amiss about the woman, something subdued about her. The presence that she usually commanded felt somehow diminished.

"You missed the sanctification," The Priest leaned closer to him, her words cutting to her ire; her chastisement was unwelcome.

Nathaniel gave a small shrug; "I give my own vows to the Emperor, is that not enough?" He returned, his voice well back on form with it's confident, slick tones.

"It would do your men good for them to see your dedication," was the return from the priest.

The Psyker gave a casual shrug of the shoulder to the priest. "There are a lot of things that would do them some good, showing them my unwavering faith in the Emperor isn't one of them," he stated plainly before stepping forwards, a subdued hush enveloped the deck. Nathaniel took a moment to gather his thoughts long enough to start his words.

"I'm no iterator. I do not have the proper vocabulary to stir your emotions to their very core. To try and do so would be an insult to your intelligence." He paused a moment, but found it best to quickly continue. "Your Sergeants have given your squads their individual briefings, you've had your blessings," a quick gesture to the Priest behind him with his staff tip "The rest is up to you. It's time to do what you do best Hammer of the Emperor. Not for your own self-serving glories, not for me and not even for the Blessed Emperor, carry yourselves with honour and dignity Guardsmen of the 412th. For Aris!"

A simple chorus echoed his last words, the dismissal of the words were evident but something stopped them.

Keeva took her own step towards the few gathered squads, calling forth as she stepped. "Conscript Grim," a sideways, warning glance from the Psyker didn't stop her from pursuing her course of action. "Step forwards, you need to answer for your crimes." The second-commanders eyes scanned the gathered squads for the wretched man. Even now, during the line up he made no effort to mask what he'd done; instead his demeanour gloated that he'd been the cause of the bruised Psyker, and that he was above the very law of discipline that was about to befall him. The lashings he'd received prior had done nothing to wipe the smug grin from his face.

"Conscript Grim," Keeva repeated when he'd made his way to the front of the gathered squads, "It has been discovered that you're responsible for the physical assault of a superior officer."

The accusation wrenched a snide chuckle from the man; "He's not superior to me."

"SILENCE!" Keeva demanded, her shrill voice cutting to the quick of the man before her. The venom in her voice absolute for the man. "You're here to be punished for your actions not gloat over them!" She reminded him of exactly where he stood, his insubordination and obvious lack of regard for regulation was a trial in itself; his arrogance was far, far worse. "As degreed in your Imperial Handbook Conscript you are to be incarcerated for sixty days, flogged publicly on every single one of those days and then shot," Keeva dealt out his punishment with dispassion.

"You can't do that!" Grim protested, a creeping stab of fear had finally entered the mans voice.

"Your Handbook Conscript," Keeva requested holding out her hand for the mans book. "I shall point you to the page where it specifically states that I can," She waited for the book to be passed, with every fraction of a second that passed she grew further impatient with the doomed man.

"I don't have it on me," Grim returned, as though it was the perfect get out clause for him.

"Sergeant?" She asked, with a slight turn of her head to the head of one of the squads. A small brown covered book was placed in her outstretched hand. She quickly flipped to a page and pointed to a small paragraph detailing the punishment that she had just delivered to the Conscript. "You've had your warnings Grim," the Second-Commander stated in a quieter voice to him. Her hand moved to her waist as she used her thumb to flick to the front page of the book, indicating to the very first passage highlighted in bold surrounded by an attention grabbing box.

Grims eyes flickered to the passage briefly with a simple "No," uttering from his lips. Keeva quickly flicked the catch for her laspistols holster and before the onlooking Nathaniel could speak his own mind on the matter the pistol had expended its charge into a terrified Grims forehead. The lifeless body of the man pitched forwards into its knees and slumped to the floor; twitching one final time before death overtook him.

Keeva handed the small book back to it's owner with a silent nod of thanks. A voice from behind her speaking a single word took her mind from the book, it spoke with an unsuppressed anger; "Dismissed." Before the Sergeants had the chance to usher the men from the gathered platform Nathaniel had Keeva by the arm and was pulling her to one side.

"Don't you dare touch me!" She hissed to him, trying to wriggle her arm away from his fingers, but their grip only tightened on her.

"What do you think you're doing!?" he screamed to her, the sound of the mans terse vocals seemed unnatural to her after only ever hearing the calmer, well played act of the psyker. "You have no right to address or take action against my men in such a fashion!" He fumed to her, it was evident that he'd taken her actions against the Conscript personally.

"What am I doing?" She repeated the question, "Something you've not had the strength to do yourself!" The Second-Commander continued to try and wrest herself from his grasps.

"You have no comprehension of how things work over here Genesis. You are a guest on board the _Glorious Heritage_ _,_ it is not up to you or your whim who you can have executed on her decks. Your actions here today will cause an obvious panic and fear among the Guardsmen." Nathaniel tried to breath deeper and calm himself; despite the pain it caused his rib, his rage threatening to overpower his sensibilities.

"As opposed to, _this_ ," Keeva dragged up the true reason for her rage against Grim by using her free arm to try and grasp at the Psykers mutated arm.

"Subtlety and tact, Miss Genesis," The Psyker elegantly avoided her reaching hand. "Conscript Grim has always been unhinged while space-bound, but his worth comes to the fore planet-side. His companions turn to his volatile ways in the heat of war and see him as someone too adhere to. The emptiness off his loss on his squad could very well cost the unit their mission!" Nathaniel tried to explain to her, the last words had him letting go of the woman's arm, and she could no longer hold his hostile gaze. She sheepishly looked to the crumpled corpse of the man she'd just murdered.

"I had no idea," Keeva weakly tried to defend herself, feeling dumbfound for the off-balance she'd been placed under.

"No, you didn't," Nathaniel pettily hissed towards her, using his clawed hand to straighten out his uniform. He could see her brow knitting and she went to speak, but he raised his arm to her and an oiled black claw raised and he pointedly stated, "Don't speak, reflect." He further aided her by adding, "Despite all your knowledge of rules and regulations, Second-Commander; you have no real understanding."

"I'm not the one hiding myself behind woven lies," Keeva retorted to his chastisement; "You speak of purity, yet..." Once again she found herself being cut off by the Psyker.

"Yet what? I desire purity for my people so they do not have to suffer the torment of those like Grim. Those like _you_ ," He pressured, baited by her words on his mutations, not speaking on the non-truths he'd spun. His frustration and anger once again returned to him and his ire got the better of him, his words stinging, "Not that it's something an uptight little..." His cursing was stopped before it's began, something felt very wrong. He glanced behind him; through the thick, clear plasteel window through to the disembarkation deck beyond. The first of his squads had boarded their Valkyries; the void shield disabled for their decent.

Nathaniels mouth felt intolerably dry leaving a sickening taste in the back of his throat. A feverish sweat dabbed at his temples and the back of his neck and he risked a look to Keeva who seemed oblivious to the Psykers instantaneous reaction. It was then that a searing pain erupted within his head, so pointed and strong it had him feeling dizzy, unsteady with agony within seconds, and as quickly as it came, it vanished. He hadn't vocalised the pain, to sharp and short it had been in lasting he hadn't had the time. Using his staff as an aid to steady himself; his argument with the Second-Commander of the _Divine Pursuit_ forgotten. The Psyker rushed over to a intervox and immediately hailed the command deck.

"What in H-Holy-Terrra was that?" He barked through the speaker, he stammered his own curse, visibly shaken to pronounce the words any sense of calm evaporated in a single question.

"Energy-Spike, Sir. Massive, coming from the surface," Came the hurried reply through the vox.

"The artefact?" Begged the next question.

"Getting confirmation now, Sir." The common voice on the other end stated, "Yes."

He noticed Keeva looking confused at him, but he had no time to explain to her; a rumbling took over the ship. A stronger second wave of energy passed over the _Glorious Heritage_ _._ It carried a more threatening violence to it, with the void shield down to allow the departure of the 412ths Valkyries the smaller craft stood little chance against the energy spike. The transport had barely got off the deck before erupting in a brilliant inferno. The flames, wreckage and passengers all sucked out into the void of space. Keeva looked horrified as she watched on helplessly behind the plasteel glass. A stifled scream dragged her attention from the explosion and she turned to see the Psyker clasping his head in his hands; agonised expression washed across his face. For all their arguments and unsettled business Keeva rushed over to him. By the time she'd made it to his side he was breathing hard; once again the energy had done it's damage and dissipated. He looked wide eyed to her, knowing the only thing that could cause such sharp pain within his mind. "Warp," he uttered to her feverishly.

Keeva took a cautious step backwards from the Psyker but pressed her concerns. "Are you all right?"

As he straightened _,_ lowering his hand from his temple he replied. "I'm still me, if that's what you mean," the honeyed, arrogant way in which he spoke was proof enough of his words.

As he spoke, regaining his composure Keeva moved to the intervox and requested; "Damage report?"

"Minor damage to the hull, decks 8 through 35 are blacked out, shield operational and back online - -" Keeva listened to the extensive report, but something moving dragged her attention away from the vox. Her hand moved instinctively to her laspistol and she looked to Nathaniel for support. As she glanced around the room to see what could be with them she noticed nothing. It was that nothing that caused a well of fear to gather in the pit of her stomach and she turned to the Psyker and asked;

"Where's Grim?"


	12. Chapter 12

The last questioning words the Second-Commander spoke had Nathaniel worried. He couldn't see the corpse of the Conscript laying where it should be, lifeless on the deck floor. There were searing, half formed images still trying to be made sense of in his mind from the energy-spike from Tuelle but only one lasting impression remained to the fore. A twisted, unrelenting force of absolute, unending chaos. There was something else in those images that concerned him; but he dare not think to heavily on their implications. He had not seen, but heard a voice – dark, forlorn but reeking of dominion. He was certain it was coming from his staff; yet he couldn't find the strength to let the physical object go.

"Where's Grim?" The question came again from the Second-Commander, and this time the Psyker could detect a note of unabated fear in her voice. Something that he'd never expected from Second-Commander Genesis.

"I don't know," Nathaniel hissed a reply towards her, sounding aggressive without meaning to have that edge to his voice. He noticed Keeva once again unholstering her pistol. The action spurred his own reaction and he motioned for the large blast doors with his clawed hand; they'd need to get them closed, sealing the _Glorious Heritage_ off from the tainted world outside lingering in the void – which meant being on the other sides of them.

Keeva turned towards the large doors and made her way towards them at full run, feeling the sense of urgency behind the psykers motions. It was obvious that he was still having troubles of his own; trying to get his mind back in check after the unexpected assault, even so he fell in step behind her. Fighting through the searing pain that lingered behind his eyes.

The moment they were through the tall metal doors Nathaniel started barking orders to get them sealed, his orders were relayed down the corridor and as the Psyker turned to give a second order he was firmly pushed against the metal corridor wall with Victarius' bolt pistol once again pointed at his head. "Failsafe!" The overseer demanded.

"B. Five. Seven-Twenty. C. Alpha. Fifty-Three." Nathaniel spoke the words forming before he even had the chance to consider them. A code, implanted in the Psykers mind by a higher power. Even after the words had formed Nathaniel had no recollection of them.

As Vicatrius released his powerful grip on Nathaniel the Psyker pushed him away and shook himself off. Try as he may, he failed to show that the obvious lack of trust for him was wearing him thin.

"What just happened?" The Second-Commander was asking and Nathaniel was only faintly aware of her voice. He took a long deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering his composure as the heavy doors beside him started to move towards one another; his order getting through the chain of Guardsmen.

"Some sort of psychic attack, an energy-spike from Tuelle. I don't underst.." It was then that he saw. And understanding came like a swift slap.

At the far end of the corridor, stood hunched over was the man that Keeva had slain only minutes before. The Conscript. Keeva followed Nathaniels sudden stare and gasped, her hand raising to her mouth. She felt ashamed for her shock; she had experienced much worse sights of war – but seeing Grim after the argument she had just had with Nathaniel about him made it seem so much more personal. As the man turned, so did her stomach.

The colour of his skin was pallid, stretched thin over what was recognisable as his features. From the las-burnt wound in his forehead grew a single, red glimmering horn – protruding outwards and upwards; like a giant festering scab. His hunched over action was so that his fingers could peel the skin from his other hand revealing fused claw and bone in sickle shape. His voice, the worst part of it all – stretched vocals, tight and torn creating symphony of ravaged chords. Grim only let escape a single sound, in a mixture of tones, an accusatory scream clinging to the last memory of the demon hosts mind. Anger towards the Second-Commander for having thrust the pain of death upon him.

Upon seeing her, Grim charged to exact his revenge. Horrified, Keeva screamed, cowering behind the Psyker and his overseer. Victarius levelled his bolt pistol towards the fiend, firing a round; hitting the Grim-beast in the shoulder causing it to stumble in it's action, faltering as it surged towards the Second-Commander.

The primary mutations of the horrendous unaligned monster from the warp festered from the new wound fresh blood instantly coagulating around the sizeable hole. Tormented manic laughter sung from the fiend as it reached out and flung the overseer aside; it's strength already an incredible feat compared to the humans. Victarius slammed against the closing metal doors with ease, and the oversized doors did not stop just because there was a human about to be sandwiched between them. The overseer looked alarmed as he tried to free himself from the tangled of his twisted clothing; full panic set in as he was dragged along with the closing doors, still struggling to free his shirt from the doors mechanics as his feet moved to keep him from being torn apart by the strong metal.

It was not only Overseer Victarius' panic that was felt rippling down the corridor, the chaotic fiend leapt on top of Keeva pinning her to the floor while unaccustomed clawed fingers tried their best to tear at her face. She was trying her best to keep the monsters claws from touching her; fighting him off despite the feeling of terror within.

Caught in the dilemma of choosing between Victarius and Keeva, Nathaniel level headedly shouted towards the nearest guardsman to have the doors cease in their movement. The order would travel down the line to where it needed to where it needed to be; if there was time or not to save the overseer from his crushing fate was out of the Psykers hands. At the same time he rounded on the Grim-fiend and with all the physical strength that he could muster the blunt end of his staff was smashed against the side of it's head. While strength had little to do with the reaction of the deamon, there was certainly an effect, it's flailing above Keeva instantly stopped. It's head snapped sharply to face the Psyker – the warp attuned staff had it's full attention now. Sophisticated movement on Nathaniels part had the staffs ends switched so spear head aimed to adeptly slice at the daemon. Grim was having none of it! With poise of its own a single hand stopped the staff mid action catching its shaft in hand and strange claws wrapping around it.

With a strong wrenching motion; Grim hissed, "This is mine!" Pulling both staff and Psyker towards him. "Irirll belongs to me!"

"Never!" Nathaniel returned struggling to keep his precious staff in his own possession. His foot lifted to place firmly on the Daemons stomach to give himself added leverage to wrench the staff out of the tight grip that Grim had upon the staff. It was a power struggle that he would not win; not with the lingering pain of his earlier assault, but still he had to try and best the daemon. He would not let his staff be torn from him so easily.

Aided in his quest to keep the staff in his possession by a sudden and intense wave of las-weapon fire. Second-Commander Keeva had gathered not only her composure after being assaulted, but mustered a few of the Guardsmen around her to fire upon the abomination. Grim flinched against the torch fire, its intensity unrelenting. As the possessed Grim was distracted by the Las-fire, Nathaniel applied further pressure from his foot and wrestled his staff from the beast; it hissed in unsuppressed rage towards the Psyker, but had little choice but to retreat back away from the onslaught of bright light firepower.

Wounded from several burns the daemon retreated; with inhuman speed away from the firing guardsmen down the corridor.

Before he spared a moment to catch his breath Nathaniel turned to Keeva to ask, "Are you...?"

his question was cut off by a mangled sounding scream from Victarius, the Overseer was still caught up in the working mechanics of the blast door, unable to wrestle his way free. The order to halt the doors was being far too slow in coming to fruition. Nathaniel pulled his short mercy blade from his belt and hurried over to where Victarius was being pulled into closing door like an unforgiving mangle.

"Hold still," The Psyker stated, although it wasn't exactly something that the Overseer could easily do.

There was enough of a halt in Victarius' movements however for Nathaniel to stick the small, sharp blade into the mans shirt. The metal cutting a hole big enough to let the man tear the rest of the clothing off and finally manage to wriggle free from the door; leaving only a heartbeat before the large doors slammed shut. Only then did the order go through to have the doors reopened.

"Belay that," Ordered Primaris Greyson; it would take some time for the renewed order to go through, but at least for now they were all safe again. There was little time to breathe however as there was still the unwelcome ordeal of the Warp infested Grim to contend with. Nathaniel turned to the Guardsmen around him and ordered, "Hold this position here." Behind him he could hear the dead-bolt of the blast doors securing, the area instantly becoming easier to guard.

With his parting words spoken Nathaniel moved to follow where the Grim-beast had led. Work was still to be done he could hear the Second-Commander and Victarius close behind him. The moment that they were rounded the corner he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her close; above her head a falling shaft vent came crashing down. They could just about see the vanishing feet of the Conscript into the vast network of the _Glorious Heritage._ Keeva yelped as she was forcefully pulled aside and she frowned until she heard and saw the slamming of the metal vent cover.

"Help me up," she told Nathaniel, looking towards the now open hole in the ceiling, making to stand directly below it.

Nathaniel moved once again to her side, but his attention was caught by none other than Private Krell who told them. "Commander Dariel has requested immediate aid in his quarters, Sir." He had a Lasgun slung over his shoulder, his forehead damp with the excursion of having to find the two officers, it took him great effort to breath after his message was delivered; physical exercise beyond that of an easy pace was not in his daily duties.

With a last glance towards the open shaft, Nathaniel nodded towards Krell and went to rejoin the other guardsmen in the corridor; leaving the daemon behind. Orders from a superior were not to be disobeyed – not even to go chase daemons.


	13. Chapter 13

Getting from the boarding deck corridors of the _Glorious Heritage_ to where Commander Dariel kept his office wasn't the easiest of treks to make – let alone with the chaos of that had caused the ship it's upsets and continuing malfunctions from the large energy-spike that'd come from Tuelle. Several doors had become shorted out and refused access even when given the correct codes. Other sections of the Imperial Ship had collapsed in on themselves blocking any passage through them.

Primaris Greyson felt initially irate that he'd not been informed of such irksome details preventing his swift arrival to his Commanders quarters. He turned to Private Krell who'd only recently been with Dariel. "You knew about these," he accused the deformed Private openly. Tension tight in his voice. It felt like every single time he took this trip it got longer and longer – he was not impressed with the notion that there was another force at play preventing him from getting to where he needed to be.

The private quickly shook his head. "No Sir, these are new, Sir." He answered drawing closer towards some of the fallen debris that currently blocked their path. He frowned deeply at the collection of metal walkways, walls and wires.

Keeva Genesis had already turned around and started to backtrack their journey and find a way around this collapse. Not for the first time.

"New?" He questioned, watching the private impassively. He gave a glance over his shoulder to see where the Second-Commander had gone, and caught her turning back the way they'd come.

"Yes, Sir. I swears it. Somethings happened since I came this way." Krell stated utterly confused as to what had happened on board the _Glorious Heritage_. It was weird, unknowable and utterly... chaotic. Certainly a mind such as his couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Stand back, Private." The Psyker ordered.

Krell gave the debris a last look over before backing away from it, dutifully obeying orders. The Psyker reached out with his mutated hand. Through the thick veil of his Torpor cocktail he could barely feel the immaterium that fuelled his abilities, but he clawed blindly through the dense fog. Reaching out for something, anything that may aid in the access through the ship. His brow twitched and his forehead beaded with sweat at the strain. Fighting through the drug had never been easy – but adding on the presence of additional barriers amongst the immaterium made the job near impossible. Near. But not quite. There was something he could harness in the darkness, something solid that would change their fate. The hard chitin of his mutated claws grasped tightly upon it; with great effort and exertion that showed across his noble features he pulled. All the while something whispered comfortingly, soothing his rising fears and calming the pains creeping inside his mind.

"Victarius," Nathaniel called out, knowing that his aims would bare little fruition should they be used upon him. He was a Psyker of the biomantic arts and whereas should one of his telekinetic brethren be here they'd just be able to move whatever blocked their path with their minds, he however had to seek alternative methods.

When the Overseer drew next to him, Nathaniel turned, with sweat dripping down his face and pulled the spell through the starchy mush of the immaterium enhancing the humans already considerable abilities.

"We need to clear this mess," Nathaniel ordered once more. "Second-Commander, head back and bring half of what remains of the Guard attachment from the Blast door, they can help us remove this wreckage."

With the aid of the psychic enhancement, Victarius set to work, pulling various parts of the debris out of the way with little strain to his physical self. Nathaniel could see the mans muscle structure through his torn clothing and how easy he was making lifting pieces of metal look. The Overseer might regret the enhancements when they wore off, but for now he was making light work of getting through the tangle of waste.

Before Keeva could return to them however, there was a faint sound right behind Nathaniels ear. Only noticeable as it caught the fringes of the Psykers hearing. It sounded like someone ripping a piece of paper directly in half with extreme slow precision. Pale faced from his prior exertion he turned to look over his shoulder and took a fleeting step backwards towards where Victarius was working.

What he saw through the unstable plane of the warp, would not be granting them any respite from their already turbulent trials. Through the clarity of his own eyes, freed from the grasps of immaterial space he could see what had made the haunting sound. A violent split torn in the side of the corridor – yet not so physical to be in the side of the metal of the battle barge herself, a large swirling rend, darker than the blackest of xenos clenching maws was arching out before him.

The faint whispering of; "I'll protect you," swished it's way into his ears and Nathaniel was about to thank whoever had made the gesture, only to realise there was no one standing close enough to him to have made the offer.

The rift howled, tearing itself wider taking up a large portion of the corridor. Against his skin, Nathaniel could feel a sucking pull towards it. His hair whipping around his face – even at the distance he stood from it. He shouted a warning to Private Krell, telling the stunted man to keep away from the vicious rift. His warning came a moment too late – as the power of the centre of the rift magnified; drawing the Private towards the mouth of the rift.

Krell squealed, the sound strangled in his throat as he was uncontrollably sucked towards the rift.

The terrified psyker reached out and grabbed onto the Privates arm, keeping him from being consumed by the warp-rift and whatever lurked within. Powerful clawed hand of the mutant Imperial keeping the stunted man as close to him as possible, despite feeling concerned for both his health and mentality.

Once more the Psyker reached through the thickness to access his own abilities. The reward he was granted was feeble, a fleeting scrap of his will remained despite the drug and the vacuum effect of the opening rift. From the tips of his clawed hand lightening crackled, the hairs on the back of his neck stood high on end. The white hot forks of lightening raged out towards rift and the ever more visible white toothed maws within. The moment the chained-power touched the edges of the rift the Psyker recoiled in pain as it arched back at him. The heat diminished, but enough of a shock to cause him stinging discomfort. He clutched the staff tighter in his hand to give him a grounding notion – leaning against it for added comfort. The Psyker couldn't peel his eyes from the Warp rift and for good reason. Within the centre of the portal he could see something, a shape emerging; as much as he did not desire to stick around to see the warp spawn form he felt frozen to the spot – through fear or curiosity he did not know.

The beasts, at first they seemed small, but Nathaniel knew that this was not the case. Their skins a vibrant hue of rusted crimson. With long claws stark white reaching to pointed tips. Their faces were elongated into hook-beaked ends; they had no eyes, they didn't need them to see, only hollow sockets. From their back powerful leathery wings protruded, a single hooked appendage probed the air. A gurgling screech tore Nathaniels attention back from the rift, as the furious daemons leapt through the portal, bringing only a couple of their charred brethren. The spear tip of his staff jabbed at one of the beasts before the Psyker turned to flee.

As he did so he came face first to greet the Second-Commander. He looked confused at him, "Are you on fire?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. With her there were several guardsmen, a mere handful compared to what they had originally left behind.

He shook his head, the shock from his own lightening had caused his overcoat to smoke. "No time," he said to Keeva unable to explain, going to take her arm and lead her away but thinking better of it; incase any of the static from his shock arched onto her.

Keeva frowned, and tried to look behind him to see what caused the sound and the screeches that followed, and saw the flashed of lasgun fire from where Krell had remained behind to fight, the simple Privates courage against what he faced a credit to his nature. The Private protecting the still working Victarius. There would be little they could do against so many beasts other than hope that they could keep them at bay long enough while the wreckage was cleared for them.

"Engage," Nathaniel ordered his men and they quickly fell in beside the rapidly firing gun belonging to Krell. "You three," his clawed fingers pointed towards the guardsmen he was ordering. "Help clear that mess."

The lasgun fire held the daemonic furies in a bottleneck; keeping them from pressing through the rift. On the floor one twitched, writhing in pain. The heavy metal tip of the Psykers staff was brought down on the side of it's sightless head crushing it's soft tissue against the hard corridor floor. Keeva had her own pistol drawn and was aiding the guardsmen in their attempts to keep the relentless beasts from getting on board the ship.

A glance was given towards the rubble clearing guardsmen their work well under way. There was a small gap emerging in the wreckage.

"Can you get through?" Nathaniel asked of Keeva.

She gave the small gap a quick look between firing her pistol. She lowered her weapon and looked to see how much of a space there was. A crippling fear came over her as she looked at the narrow offering. The cave in bringing back forth unwelcomed memories of her sole survival on the planet Ashera. She hesitated, looking back to the portal and the horrors pushing their way through. She then looked back to the gap. "Yes," she uttered hesitantly trying to keep the fear for confined spaces from her voice.

"Then get through and get help," Nathaniel ordered her once more.

She was about to protest, to tell the Psyker to send Krell through but when she looked over her shoulder she could see that their firing line was failing to keep the beasts at bay. She heard the clicking sound of a magazine cartridge being expended and one of the guardsmen calling to one of his fellows for a spare for reloading. She pressed herself against the metal and managed to wriggle herself along the narrow gap, trying to keep her mind off the tightness that she squeezed her way through. Behind her she heard Nathaniel shout to his fellows; ordering them to hold their line. Their courage was clearly faltering.

A grinding noise sounded not long after, as she was part way through the debris and her heat pounded faster. Certain she was going to be crushed by some of the broken metal. She stopped where she was looking the other way to see if she should go back – she'd made it further than she had anticipated and that spurred her on further through the hole.

The amount of relief she felt when she finally got free from the small space was overwhelming. She shouted a few times for someone to come help her before anyone came rushing.

Nathaniel took an unwitting step back himself, he felt utterly drained and had no desire to use his powers against the rift should they once again be redoubled against him and his own men. Their time was running short and out of the corner of his eye he could see Victarius lagging in his efforts. The effect of his spell not lasting long enough due to the influence of the torpor.

"Concentrate on the gap," he breathed. If they could get through the gap after Keeva they might just survive.

Victarius and his fellows did as they were ordered and started pulling pieces of the wreckage away from the side of the wall.

Beside him Nathaniel heard a garbled scream as one of the furies leapt from the rift onto the guardsman beside him. Another tragic waste of life. The Psyker brought the tip of his staff forwards, impaling the beast. It writhed in absolute agony, it's scream far worse than that of the human it had just killed. The claws in it's wing tips curled up like a shrivelled, dead spider as it screamed on the floor. Several of the other furies looked in Nathaniels direction and a feeling of dread overtook him once more. He moved defensively, taking another step back towards the guardsmen clearing the debris. Krell took a step towards the monsters, keeping his gun firing. Joined swiftly by his peers, the death of the fury bolstering their confidence.

From behind there was an almighty crash and the wreckage caved in on itself. Taking with it two of the working Imperials. When the dust cleared Keeva emerged with an attachment of her own. A squad of older, more senior members of the Aris 412th. Their fire over lapping with that of those around the psyker – giving them some more powerful sustained fire to hide behind. Relief came to those who'd been under so much pressure. Yet there was still no time for rest as the rift continued to pour out fury after fury to overwhelm them.

"Lead on, hurry," Nathaniel pressured her. The Second-Commander did as she was ordered and led them away from the rift filled corridor. Their flight did not last long, Keeva led them to another corridor, clear this time from any debris.

"Hold here," The Psyker barked another order through his tiredness, "We need a cordon here," He marked out a line with his hand in the corridor where the Guardsmen should set up their line of defence.

"Krell, Victarius, with me," he ordered his two closest allies. They were visibly relieved to not be left behind to suffer the fate of the furies.

The four of them headed down towards their destination, a light flickering on the wall hinted to the unstable power enveloping the ship. It was clear that the Grim-Daemon had wrought some of it's own havoc throughout the Imperial War ship.

"What happened?" Keeva questioned once they had reached some sort of safe distance.

Nathaniel gave the slightest of shrugs, his footsteps had become more difficult and he lent heavier against his supporting staff. He hadn't a clue himself about what they had just faced, other than assuming that it was the Grim-Daemon that had somehow brought them with him when he'd been resurrected. Yet there was something that he felt concerned for, both the voice he had heard and the coincidence of the rift emerging twinned with the use of his powers to enhance Victarius – who now looked almost as awful as he felt.

Keeva looked utterly confused, Nathaniel was hiding something from her, and she couldn't understand why. It felt awful being kept in the dark when everything around her was falling apart. She turned on the Psyker. Demanding that he explain his initiative, but her words stopped mid sentence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something. Something more terrible than being kept in the dark. Daemon spawn. She drew her small las-pistol and took aim, ready to fire.

Nathaniel caught her arm and started to pull her away from the oncoming beasts. Her bravery in the face of the daemons was commendable, but foolish. A single pistols Las-fire would only antagonise the beasts; they needed something more substantial – a gun line at best. Knowing when to hold and when to retreat, where your tactical lines were; that was the trait of the Guardsmen. Recklessly engaging the enemy and assuming you'd win? That was the way of the Space Marine!

Nathaniel hurried to the nearest functioning wall-mounted Vox unit. It was belching static and he couldn't be certain that it was working entirely. "All remaining guardsmen are to rendezvous at Commander Dariels office. Do what you can to entrench there. Engage all unknown entities with suppressive Las-Fire."

There was no reply from the Vox and the Psyker had to trust that the Emperor was still watching over them.

Still holding onto the Second-Commanders arm he led her away from the pursuing host of daemons towards their initial destination; surely with the collection of guardsmen and their guns they'd stand a chance of holding. Silent prayer was given to the Emperor for that slim chance.


	14. Chapter 14

The rendezvous that Nathaniel had commanded to be set up over the Vox was on route to his and The Second-Commanders own destination. There had been no communication from Commander Dariel since Private Krell had first told the Psyker to report to his superior. In itself this aspect was worrying, the Guardsman Commander was usually reliably communicative when it came to crunch time; and if there was ever such a time, this was it. Nathaniel turned to Keeva, going to voice his concerns to her; the look on her face towards him put her off. He knew he could lie about the rifts not being his fault, but he wasn't sure he'd get away with such a falsehood would get past her at this point. He'd deceived her once already. That hadn't gone down too well when she'd found out what he'd been hiding. Truth be thought, he wasn't even certain if the rifts had been his fault; but they certainly seemed to know how to twist his feeble powers to their own gain.

"Sir!" A shout came up from the long corridor, the voice belonged to one of the 412ths Veteran squad. A stalwart man addressed as Crowe. The shout pulled the Psyker from his chastising thoughts and made him realise that he was still half dragging Keeva with him. His human fingers let go of her the second the knowledge came to him.

"Report," the Primaris Psyker ordered, hurrying behind the make-shift bunker. The Guardsmen had done their job well, piling up sandbags on either side of the wide corridor. They'd set up a portable Vox-Caster for future communications and even had a small medi-centre where a wounded Guardsman was being attended. Behind them, a few yards down the corridor was the majestic entrance to the Commanders Chambers – it could wait until Nathaniel was briefed on the status of his men. Keeva however, was already heading towards the chamber doors.

"Not good, Sir," Crowe informed. "Long range communications are non-functional, we're getting steady reports of collapses throughout the ship. And you won't believe this one sir, apparent sightings of daemon spawn!" He stated with a level of humour, assuming one of the fresher recruits was playing comedian.

"I believe it," Nathaniel replied, his expression ashen. Crowe took his meaning and nodded.

"Morale is good, considering the surprise attack. Not that it's ever lacking."

"The wounded?" The Psyker asked, motioning to where the man lay; he'd started groaning in pain.

"Drake, Sir."

"Any unique skills?" Nathaniel asked of the veteran once more.

"Good tracker, usually our Vox guy." Crowe answered.

Nathaniel cursed softly under his breath. Looking over his shoulder for the Second-Commander. Seeing that she'd already made her way to Commander Dariels office he cursed, louder this time. What was with the woman and her lack of desire to simply obey!

"Dismissed," He stated briefly towards Crowe, who saluted and returned to his post.

He turned towards the other two with him and told them "Wait here," Victarius gave him a raised brow look; it wasn't the Psykers place to dismiss him so readily, he was returned with a pleading look which Victarius nodded to. Krell hunkered down behind a pile of sandbags; dutifully obeying.

"Second-Commander!" The Psyker called after the woman, striding towards her. He grabbed her by the arm and forcibly turned her back towards him, half expecting her to appear glassy-eyed or possessed, at least that would have explained her constant defiance.

Keeva however struggled from his grip, still disgusted by his touch. Even though he'd grabbed her with his more human fingers once again. The look she shot him was icy, even for her cold demeanour.

"We have orders," She informed him, avoiding his eyes as she looked back towards the office doors.

"And I have them to give," He stated; there was still a chain of command rippling down the structure of the guardsmen and the veterans, although dutiful and able to think for themselves, still needed orders in order to function at maximum efficiency. "This little power struggle is getting tiresome, Second-Commander Genesis, and I have no desire to see it through during the current status of the ship. I suggest you fall in line." Nathaniel spoke to her directly and authoritatively. How he should have done from the off-set. "Ultimately, I am going to need you and your skills, so please, do me the favour and put your petty grudges behind you and act like the Commander you are meant to be?" He asked her, rather than ordered. Though the undertone of his speaking was not of such a respectful nature.

Without letting her answer the Psyker turned back to face Crowe, "Sergeant, make sure you hold this line no matter the cost. Commander Dariel is Prime Concern. If your wounded show any adverse signs, kill them." He spoke with little compassion for the potential death sentence of the order; a trait they all knew to be untrue.

He turned once more on his heel and made his way – with Keeva at his side – towards Commander Dariels office doors.

"You shouldn't speak to me with such disrespect, I am technically your ranking officer," Keeva stated flatly, without humour.

"Technically you're a guest," Nathaniel replied with a sigh, seeing as she was still so keen on trying to pull rank. Insisting on continuing their silly little struggle.

"I would say not, considering the state of emergency,"

"All right then, Commander, what would you have me do?" He reversed the power towards her, seeing as that what she wanted to vie for.

"Do you still have a Mercy Blade?" She asked looking towards him finally with a raised brow.

"Yes," The psyker replied, feeling himself shrinking inside despite himself.

"I would have you use it," Keeva replied. "For all our sakes," Outlining herself and exactly where she stood with the Psyker. She recalled now that Private Krell had warned her from the off-start about Primaris Greyson and she wished she had listened to the strange mans words then – pried with more questions, beaten answers out of him if she had to. But hindsight was always clear.

"Then I am glad I do not have to defer to your leadership qualities," He answered flatly. Cutting the exchange short as they reached the door. He pressed the buzzer, which under normal circumstances would have started communications with those present within the room. However the door just lazily slid open and stopped part way through. As much as he wanted to, Nathaniel resisted giving Keeva an uncertain look. Seemed like not even the quarters were safe from the influences of the outside.

The room that was being tantalizingly displayed to the two was encased in darkness, just the dim light of a holo-display penetrated to the hallway where they stood. Nathaniel entered the room first, "Commander?" He questioned leaning down to pick up a data-slate that had fallen to the floor. He gave it a quick glance before setting it down on top of a desk, on first glance it told him nothing of import. The room itself was exactly what would be expected of a high-ranking officer. Elaborate in every detail. A great contrast to the rest of the barren ship. Keeva entered the room behind him, the door slamming shut behind her.

The effect of the single light on their faces was haunting. It flickered creating strange shadows, much akin to a dancing candle.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nathaniel saw an aged figure hunched over. At first he assumed the commander was hurt and tending to his wounds, but the way he sat. It wasn't natural.

"Commander Dariel," Nathaniel addressed the man. As his voice rang out the holo-display shorted out and they were plunged further into darkness; the only source the data-slate. A small narrow beam dimly peeping. That. And two illuminated globes that were Commander Dariels eyes. Glowing vibrant yellow as the mans head turned towards them.

"You!" Strained vocal cords raged towards the Psyker. Not for the first time during this ordeal the Psyker thought that his Mercy Blade might not be such a bad idea.


	15. Chapter 15

He stood in shocked disbelief. Every muscle held in absolute tension and he stared in motionless silence. Nathaniel had known Commander Dariel as long as he had been in service to the Imperium. He was the strongest, most dedicated figure he could think of. He'd had his concerns as of late, but he'd never thought that he'd become tainted. To see him fall was crippling, and as long as those two bioluminescent eyes stared at him, he was held rigid to the spot.

The sounds of battle erupted outside the room, but he didn't hear them. A sullen silence had fallen over the broken office; the ruptured buzzing, the ragged breaths, the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. Nothing seemed to break the horrified trance with the twin glow. Not even the shouting of his name from the Second-Commander as Dariel drew closer to him.

It was only as the possessed was threateningly close that the shallow beeping of his personal alarm called him from his reverent stupor. The buzzing, shouts and heartbeat all intensified or lessened according to their place. The trance broken, all seemed to come back to itself; return to as close to normal under the circumstances as possible. Quickly Nathaniel stepped back, narrowly avoiding a vicious blow from the daemon host, this was not to be a battle of blows. Very calmly, Nathaniel lifted his wrist and with black tipped claw he pushed a button on the alarm, silencing it.

"Why the _Glorious Heritage?_ " Nathaniel asked the daemon host, if he wasn't to leave this room with his life, then he would leave it with answers.

The tainted Dariel grinned, teeth pointed into wicked tips. A thin line of spittle drooled from the corner of his mouth. "You know why," The voice was pitched high, excited. "She is here, she is close now. Irirll, so close. I can almost touch her. Take her." The daemon host ranted. He was running his hands together, shuffling forwards towards The Psyker. Who in return backed away from him, circling around the room – keeping the daemon host slowly at bay. Nathaniel had noted that Keeva had started to work on getting the office door back open and working; in her hands several wires were being rearranged. It was just a matter of time before she worked their way free, time that he would have to buy.

Nathaniels brow knitted; "Irirll, what is this Irirll," The Psyker fumed, loosing valuable ground in the battle of words announcing his lack of knowledge. Untangling the delicate dance of words with his ire.

"You know," Dariel hissed. "You've always known, she is you, fuels you, guides you, enhances you. _You,_ of all insignificant things! If she can do that for you. Just think what she can do for me!" The Dariel daemon raged.

It dawned on the Psyker then; as loathe as he was to admit it, the daemon was right. He let out a sigh, "The staff." The words seemed to perk Keeva's interest, which she carefully tried to hide.

"Locked within, always watching; influencing."

Nathaniel shook his head, he'd always looked after his valuable possession. Cleansed it, purified it. He knew without a shadow of doubt that his mind was his own; unlike that of Dariel, of Grim, he was not weak to the outside influences of the Immaterium. His loyalty was not under question! Fused fingers tightened on the staffs shaft. If a daemon wanted the staff, he was damned if he was going to just hand it over. Irirll needed to be destroyed. The determination set on his noble features. He flashed Keeva a glance who nodded towards him.

"You will not have her," The Psyker stated flatly to the daemon taken Dariel, and rather than continuing to back away from the wretch, he changed direction. Storming towards the office door, unabashed for the accusations that had been thrown at him. Keeva connected two of the wires and the door hissed open slowly. She nipped through the door quickly, while Nathaniel confidently strode through the entrance; not looking back to the vile foe that'd rendered him dumbstruck for the loss of the Commander.

Once the door closed behind them, Keeva shouted towards one the Veterans nearby to weld the door closed as quickly as possible. They obeyed her orders as soon as they heard them.

Outside in the corridor a battle was waging, the furies unleashed earlier had caught up to their prey and were waging havoc on any that got in their way. The Veteran Guardsmen were doing their level best at keeping the beasts at bay with concentrated las-gun fire and expert discipline. Keeva drew her pistol and joined the fray, making her way to Sergeant Crowe to relay further orders to him. Finally stepping up her game and taking charge of the situation; her doubts about the Psyker and his loyalties had come under question the first time she had seen his mutated arm and with every development she began to question further.

She struggled her way through the combat and hunkered down next to him, nestling against one the the piled sand-bags. Nathaniel joined her a moment later. "We have a larger target being shut in that office, Sergeant; I need half your men to about face and keep it engaged for as long as possible, the moment it gets free."

"Understood," Crowe complied, but looked towards his own superior officer for confirmation.

"Defer to her superiority Sergeant," The Psyker stated, relinquishing his own level of command over his men to the Second-Commander. His voice soft, uncertain. Clearly shaken. If there was even a chance that he was being manipulated by the staff, then he didn't desire to be in a position of power where he could be abused. For his own sakes, and for that of those underneath him.

Crowe started bellowing orders towards the men, separating them between las-gun volley. Obeying the Second-Commander before returning to his post, awaiting any further instructions.

"I need a working long range Vox, if I can get work to the _Divine Pursuit_ I can make a report; get some back up." She explained to Crowe.

"Don't have anything like that sort of kit here," He started to explain.

"There was one in my quarters?" She returned.

"Too far," Nathaniel interjected.

"The closest?" Keeva asked him.

The Psyker bit his tongue, knowing the closest was actually in Dariels office, but seeing as there was a daemon host within it's walls... "Medical," he announced.

"Need to get past them, first." Crowe pointed with his thumb towards the furious beasts, just as a pounding started from within the office doors; the metal warping outwards slightly with each smash.

"Suggestions?" Keeva asked calmly.

"I don't think we have enough fire-power here to take them out, not if you want some to stay behind and keep that occupied." Crowe stated, pointing in the other direction.

The order to keep the daemon host at bay had been a suicide order; but Nathaniel actually felt himself swell with pride as Keeva finally seemed to understand the duty of the Guardsman.

"May I?" He asked Victarius about the Furies. "I.. will have to use my staff." He stated looking to Keeva, Victarius looked her way also, knowing how strange that would sound after what they'd just heard and experienced. Keeva avoided his gaze as he stated as such. Curious. Without it though, there was no grounding, no source; he'd feel lost, unbalanced. He didn't want too, he had too.

She raised a brow towards him, but nodded her head. They had little choice.

"All right, Sir." Victarius confirmed. Something had transpired within Commander Dariels office that he had no knowledge of and under alternative circumstances he would have kept Nathaniels powers tightly locked away. Now however, they seemed to be needed more than most.

The Psyker afforded his overseer a small smile before standing. Walking between the two piles of sand-bags, taking note of how many of the beasties were attacking, flying in his direction, engaged with his guardsmen. All of them adding to a rapid minded calculation. His chains had been released and there was so much more than simple arched lightening in his arsenal now he was clear of his torpor cocktail. It had been some weeks since he'd been able to channel the full extent of his learned powers, but he still exuded that feeling of arrogant confidence.

Fuelled by the release from the Torpor, Nathaniel reached deeply into his power resources his mind set on the furies that he'd logged. His natural eyes closed; sight from beyond keeping watch on the beasts. Hands raised towards the foes, with one thought on his mind. A mental mantra repeated over and over, guiding the Psykers powerful biomantic skills. The heat around him rose, his own heart pounding once again; but that was nothing compared to the rush of blood surging through the minor daemons. His staff crackled with warp energy as the immatrium was manipulated around him. The daemon bodies twisted, wings contorted, clawed feet curled. Vile screaming hisses erupted from their gnarled beaks as neck craned; straining to see what was causing them so much pain. Several of the beasts turned to the Psyker – only to be taken by a single Las-Gun shot. One leapt towards the concentrating Psyker, managed to rake a clawed foot over his face, aiming for the easiest entrance to the brain that caused them so much agony. Blood poured down the side of his face over his eye, but did nothing to break the incantation. The Fury at his face burst into flame, being the closest to the source of the power, followed by the others as they one by one burned alive from the insides.

As he came back to himself, Keeva clasped him on the back and complimented his good work before moving past him. Crowe was with her; and another of the veteran squad. A dark skinned man known as Frost. He'd painted a few markings on one of his shoulders – a poorly rendered mockery of the Ultramarine Chapter. His las-rifle was slung over his shoulder and he'd fallen in line behind his Sergeant and the Second-Commander. A moment after the spell had dissipated, the smell of burning daemon flesh in the air, Nathaniel opened his eyes. Instantly his mutated hand went to the vicious wound on his face. Clawed fingers removed covered in his own blood – the price of his arrogance. He blinked to keep the blood from his eyes. It stung, but as his two veterans followed Keeva to the nearest long-range vox; as did the Psyker.

Left behind were the rest of their squad, to a fate of swift, undeserved death at the hands of their former commander.


End file.
